IN MY HEART I KNOW I'M FURRY

Does anyone know why one is furry? It it "born" in you or is it something that develops from something and grow?. No one, to my knowledge can say for sure and, of course, I can't say for others (though I'd really like to know). But I think for me I "know" that it was right from the start. I feel if you are furry, you must have been born one. You simply have to rediscover what is inside you that is usually not obvious at first glance. Or is it? From childhood love of animals both real and animated. As well as the ongoing interest, fascination and love with animation, I suppose that it was always there. I have always felt that I'm missing my tail. Why isn't it there? It SHOULD be there! And I'm not a happy furry that it isn't there either!

From my very earliest memories of any kind that I have, fur has always had a powerful effect on me and that is no exaggeration. I am attracted to it. Plain and simple and being totally honest about it. Both on real live animals, of course, and in any form of clothing or decor you can find or think of. I guarantee you it will be the first thing I "see" if it's used as a collar or trim on any kind of coat or clothing at all. I'll notice a fur pillow, spread or rug or wall hanging in a home instantly. Then, after the fur's been seen, I'll finally see whatever else is there.

Now for the life of me, I cannot explain the how or why of this to you. I can't figure it out for myself, honest. All I do know and that I can testify to you, is that I simply love it! The look of it, the touch and the feel. I will add though, that "print" furs are even more attractive to me then just plain old solid color ones. Needless to say, I have no idea if that means something as well or not, but hooray for zebra stripes, tiger stripes, leopard spots and cheetah spots. Oh yes! Or as well, contrasting fur colors as like a skunk tail or a raccoon tail give increased pleasure as well. Those stripes, spots or body or tail makings, shall we say, only increases the visual enjoyment I get.

There's always a fake fur bedspread on my bed year round. To heck with summer, fur wins! I have several different ones to be able to change looks throughout the year. On top of the bedspread are fake fur toss pillows of many different kinds and species. I usually have to take about half off just to get into bed. I have several Alpaca rugs that have different designs that are used as wall hangings. Two on a living room wall, one on the wall of the short hall leading to the bathroom and two on two walls of my bedroom.

Many years ago now I bought some medium-sized fake fur rugs that were cut into a pelt-hide shape in leopard, tiger and zebra. I made chair-back slip covers for the four dining room chairs by partially sewing them up a little bit. One hide folded over and sewn up a little bit on the sides to make them fit and stay in place nicely. Then, I cut up several more of those fake fur skins I had bought to also make matching place mats and small coasters for both cups and medium-sized ones for bowls. I can change from one species of the three to another whenever I feel the want to change. So, even my dining room table has been furred. Beginning to see a pattern here...ha! I've often joked to close friends that I'm 99% certain in that if you could turn me inside-out, I'd be furry inside! A mistake at the factory during assembly, I was made inside-out I think.

For many years now I wear almost exclusively "Ugg" style sheepskin boots. They are truly as comfortable as they say they are in their advertising selling points. With me, however, there is an ulterior motive. They're furry! Currently I have one pair, a golden brown outside with a cream color sheepskin. My first furry request, I guess, was at about seven years of age. I asked my mom to buy me a particular jacket. The reason, unspoken though, was it's dark blue sheepskin collar. How I looked forward to wearing it each time. The jacket itself was no big deal. In fact, if it hadn't had the fur collar I wouldn't have even wanted it. Later jackets in later years would also be furry as well.

I have always had a closeness to animals that comes from deep inside me. No, they have not and do not talk to me. At least, they haven't as of yet! But their inner "spirits" most certainly do. I, the human being, gladly "step aside" in the presence of our furry animal friends when I see them in a nature documentary or live in person like at the zoo, and let my furry "soul" be free and relate. I simply enjoy their company. I admire their beauty. I envy them their beautiful fur coats. My human skin is so plain and cheap in comparison. As I mentioned earlier, I so envy them their tails! While many furry folk have a particular species that they "are", I almost cannot pin it down to only one. I'm a hodgepodge of three rolled into one.

There's a part of me that relates to the moose. The massive member of the deer family is me in the physical form. The moose is the largest deer. Frankly, a little homely looking too in comparison to his sleek and slender relations. Both he and I are deer in mind, heart and in spirit, but the physical form is large and dumpy.

Next, is the wolf, for his cunning, resourcefulness and survival skills. He is at peace with himself. He takes care of himself and his family. He knows that most fear him and avoid any contact and that's just the way it is. But the wolf has that inner peace of "knowing" you and what you are. It's the knowledge mankind has been searching for since time began. Wolf ain't tellin' though. When you look into the eyes of a wolf, don't you feel him looking right back at you, in effect through you. And with that look, he reaches in and pokes your soul. I get chills by just writing this down!

My third animal is the lion. This is mainly due to Kimba, the cartoon white lion I grew up with. Kimba is the true and the original "Lion King". He taught me how to be a kind and gentle king. That with the royal "crown" comes responsibility! That the brave heart and noble heart can, and should, be a tender heart as well. Power, is used most effectively, when it is used sparingly. Sometimes, no matter how badly we want to avoid it, we HAVE to fight for what's right and for what we believe in! After much thought I have decided that as an honor to Kimba and the major part he has played in my life, I wish to spend the hereafter (at least my body) in my adult Kimba fursuit. I've told my friends of this "last" request.

But, absolutely, positively, I am a lion first and foremost. That I am sure of as having the sun rise in the east every morning! And yes, a white lion at that!

I started collecting stuffed animals at age 12. It all started with one that I bought with my allowance! And it continues to this day with hundreds and hundreds (close to a thousand in total) in my personal collection. And, just to let you know, I show no signs of stopping any time soon! The animals I buy though, have to relate to me. I could go down a store aisle with hundreds of stuffies displayed and most would "do" absolutely nothing for me. That even includes those of my faves as well. But, when that special one in that furry pile "calls" to me, I'm a gonner.

I shouldn't, I don't really need. I could spend the money on groceries for example. Where in the heck am I going to put you in the first place? Well, there's always room for one more--somewhere in the furry "lair". Big ones stand or sit on the floor, medium and small ones sit on their "brother's" and "sister's" backs. They're even on the wall! I have many "Humane Trophies", which are animal heads and their matching "other ends". Plus, all of the bookcases and curio cabinets in both bedroom and living room, that are filled to overflowing.

When I started my collecting at age 12 my parents we're in the process of finalizing their divorce. I lived with my mother, my dad moved out. He borderline hated my collecting the stuffies. "A man doesn't do that!" I would hear that line more than a few times over all the years. But my mother, on the other hand,was actually supportive of my collection. She even had her own favorites of my furry family. She worked nights as a registered nurse, so I would often put one of her "favorites" out on the dining room table to welcome her back home in the morning. She always loved this. She never called me strange or odd, she just let me be me. Of which I owe her all my love, thanks and praise!

The other outward sign of my furriness was was my love and passion for cartoon characters. Again, the same old refrain came from my Dad about a man doesn't do that kind of thing. Well, I never grew out of it or ever changed. So, "sorry" dad.

Kimba, the White Lion is my top, number one 'toon and friend. I met him in 1966 when he first came on American TV. He aired on late Sunday afternoons in Los Angeles where I lived. I must also admit to the fact that I "drove" my poor mom more than a little "crazy" by always insisting that wherever we were, whatever we might be doing on a Sunday afternoon, that I'd be saying--"Mom, we have to get home for Kimba!" I could write a twenty-page post on Kimba alone! But that's not for right now.

I will tell you this much though. From the very start and through all these many years, Kimba became, and is, my "best friend", hero and father figure! Everything I believe in, have respect for, have admiration of, comes from that almost life-long relationship with my white lion friend! Again, my mom wasn't bothered by this and seemed to take it all in stride. Again, she had her favorites in cartoon characters. She loved "Chip & Dale" and also "Tweety Bird".

Mom died in 1981, long before the fursuits and the character performing. My collecting would be all she'd know. I do, however, believe she would be both amused by it and supportive of it at the same time. That she would love it, and me, as much as she ever did! My Dad died in 1995, so he knew of the performing. I began in late 1986. His first reaction was quite predictable and totally expected. Heck, I was in the "doghouse" with him back from before I ever became a teenager, because I never got and took a paper route. But, once, when I came up from San Diego to visit him, I brought along one of my suits and showed it to him. I even got into it to show him how it was and also a little bit of what I did. He could see and appreciate the discomfort and work that was truly involved in doing my performing. The fact that is was my job too and I was getting paid for it, didn't hurt either. I'm 99.9% sure he was never truly happy or fully accepting of it. But, I do believe he came to "terms" with it.

My furriness, was always somewhat obvious there on these two levels. But I surmise that one could fairly easily "overlook" them in what they truly meant to me. That furriness of mine was to be truly set free, to take firm root and blossom, in a two-step process over several years time. I did not truly know at the time that it was really happening, but indeed it was!

After My mom died, in many ways I was "lost". Again, I'm a only child and with an AWOL dad, I was drawn and brought closer to my mom even more. I got it in my mind to do something, if I could, that would be more than just a job or work. Something that I enjoyed in and of itself. With much effort, determination and a never give up--"I will succeed" attitude, I opened up my retail stuffed animal gift store--"Bucky's Barn". A modest effort I grant you. But I was very proud of what I built up from nothing.

It was a 900 square foot store in a "strip" outside shopping center. I had so much fun! It looked like a barn. I built little mini-stalls, a loft around three sides of the store, indoor/outdoor "grass" carpeting and four real hay bales! Oh, the aroma from those hay bales! I brushed and fluffed every animal when it came in. The sales tags were taped to the wood shelves where the stuffies sat patiently, waiting to be "adopted" to their new homes. Those tags were like the old fashioned tags with the hole in them at a triangular end that for the larger animals could be tied around a paw. Each tag had the animal's price and their name! I carried the usual kinds of plush, but became known as the place to go for the unusual or uncommon species! I sold more than a few vultures and even a couple of plush snails. I still have my "Sanford" snail in my personal collection.

At Christmas time I hung colored Christmas lights along the loft's edge from one side of the store to the other. I left them on after closing each night and it looked so "Christmasy". On each post was a plush red Christmas stocking hanging down, with a little stuffie of some kind nestled in it's furry white cuff.

I signed an initial two-year lease and was renewed for another two years by the landlord. But instead of getting a third renewal for another two years, I along with five other businesses next to me, got the proverbial "boot" to allow the Von's supermarket that was our center's anchor store to expand into our collective area. Needless to say, I was devastated. All my work and effort, in essense, all for nothing. The previous year had finally shown profit and substantial growth from the earlier three. I couldn't get a loan or move. It just wasn't possible with my size and finances.

So, when the career path took this unexpected, sudden and hard turn back in 1986, the John Lennon quote comes to mind. "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making plans." Another quotation that I think applies correctly here, that I found out about several years ago, is by James Baldwin: "All roles are dangerous. The world tends to trap you in the role you play and it is always extremely hard to maintain a watchful, mocking distance between oneself, as one appears to be and oneself, as one actually is."

So in the month of November of 1986 I began my career as a costumed character. I knew,of course, of the characters at Disneyland and at other theme parks. And not to forget as well, those of companies and all those sports team mascots too. I even met when I was a young child--Yogi and Boo-Boo at a local mall (Topanga Plaza, a mall in the San Fernando Valley of LA). I can tell you that was one of the biggest highlights of my young life. They were real to me! However, I never knew, thought of, or ever dreamed that I could ever be one myself.

It began simply enough as a temporary seasonal job to make some money. That was my original reason, plain and simple. I took a job at a local mall and was one of two people hired to "help" Santa for the season. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I never suspected that this single action was to be the most pivotal event of the rest of this earthly life. In addition to my "Santa" duties I got into "Rudolph" and would walk around the mall meeting and greeting all. That was it! I was "hooked", I was "overwhelmed", I was "excited", I was simply "so happy beyond belief", I was, so to speak, "in love"...take your pick, any and all apply!

After the season ended I was told of a company up in the "North County" of San Diego that did kid's birthday parties and special events. I went there and was hired and studied to learn everything about costuming and fursuits from the ground up. So here today, some 23 years later, I'm still "partying" and "furrier" than ever! Excuse the accidental pun--but what a fit! Never had this been offered as any job or employment option in any high school career counseling. Plus, of course, I finally get to have my tail!

My fursona grew to a total of of 38! Which I had up two a couple of years ago. But, with the economy being what it is, I've been forced to sell some for badly needed money to pay bills with. I hope when times get good again, to be able to perhaps get new versions of the ones I had to sell. I do miss them, they were and are "my kids", ya' know?

When I first started doing this the drive, desire and passion began immediately and just grew and grew from there. My fursona collection itself, grows by a little more, each and every year. I must also credit some of my success at this to my vocal abilities. Although I'm not to the level of the great Mel Blanc, my abilities were above the norm to start with. And have only grown with all the years of experience behind me.

Every fursona of mine is it's very own--with a demeanor and personality that is theirs alone. I cannot tell you the pure joy I get playing them! Yes, it's very hot inside the fur, of course. But, at least for a little while, I'm an animal, not human! That's something I've longed to be for oh, so long. I think, both in humorous and serious thought on it, that my decision I must have made in the spirit realm to decide to come down to Earth as a human was simply a bad idea that must have seemed like a good one at the time. And again, don't forget, when I'm fursuiting, I finally "get" my tail! Hooray!

I found my purpose, or should I say my furpose? No lie, 'tis the truth I'm telling you. I'm a living, breathing, eating, sleeping, walking, talking, working, playing, resting, 24 hour a day, seven day a week--FURRY! As simple and as trite as it may sound, there is true peace when you FINALLY discover and know who you are. I'm so happy 'cause me furry...

(Changing the Marines motto just a little) Semper Furry!