Soundtrack: Forever Young, Rod Stewart https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwG6g5boyF4

Content warnings apply for discussion of suicide.

When I was growing up, in my extended family I was the youngest of all my cousins. Also I was the youngest in my school classes by virtue of having skipped a grade in elementary school. I was used to being “the kid” in a given situation. Almost imperceptibly that changed one day and I began to be “the grownup” in a given social circle, especially in furry, and now I’m verging on being “the old man”. I was a bit sensitive about my age for the longest time, and a sure way to hit me in a sore spot was to make a crack about my real life age. But I’ve decided to own it and be up front about it. I turn 52 in a couple of months. I have been a furry for well over half my life and I have no plans to quit anytime soon. As long as my fingers are able to type and hold a stylus I can be an active furry. And I will be a furry for the rest of my life, regardless of the demographics of the fandom as a whole. I really have nowhere else I want to go. Furry is my home.

What have I learned in this time?

You can always find out new things about yourself. You can pick up kinks at any age. You can learn new things about your gender and sexuality at any age. You are always in a process of becoming something new. None of us are truly static, but we do evolve and change at different speeds. That is true even if you try to fight it or ignore it. It’s more fun to roll with it.

“Be curious, not judgmental.” - it’s a quote from Ted Lasso that sums up much of my life philosophy. I always try to understand where someone is coming from and why they might feel a certain way about something. I try to empathize even with my enemies, because knowing your enemies’ weak spots is key to defeating them.

Friendship is a wonderful thing, but sometimes friendships end, and there’s nothing you can do about it. It can hurt to lose a friend as much as it hurts to lose a romantic partner, and the wounds can sting for years.

I try very hard to never close a door completely on a friendship, unless their actions were so deeply wrong that I can’t trust or respect them anymore.

I do not judge people based on their thoughts or fantasies, only on real world actions.

I try very hard to live my life in such a way that people will not post crab rave upon my death.

I help where I am able, and that includes buying “commissions” where we both know its more of a donation, and I never expect an actual drawing to show up. As my financial situation permits I support my fellow furries as much as possible, with no strings attached.

The hardest lesson I had to learn was that sometimes when someone is walking a dark path in life you can’t help them. You can give them advice, love, support, long chats, you can be there as much as possible for someone, but ultimately all you can do is watch them walk that path, and you are powerless to stop them. And it is a hard, hard thing to watch.

Not all the furs I have known, made it to now.

I remember Rabbitboy. I remember Ashentaine. I remember Singe. I remember StarsPyre. I remember Furp. I remember Stellos. I remember Vawlkee. I remember Doug Winger. I remember Carmine Koala. I remember PebblePup. I remember Shon. I remember Jace. I remember Fringe. I remember HakuPamfer. I remember Rebecca Dragon.

Most of all I remember Kimba.

Some were well known in the fandom, some were not. Some were babyfurs, some were not. Some died from disease or accident, others by their own hands.

The Black Rabbit of Inlé has taken them all.

I remember them even if our lives only touched briefly, and I miss them.

Thank you for being here with me for however many more years we have together.

Cargo Weasel
January 29, 2024