Furries purr over Pittsburgh reception

Furries are misunderstood creatures, says a Furry leader whose animal alter ego is a samurai cockroach.

Nearly 3,000 Furries -- loosely defined as people who embrace the idea that animals can assume human characteristics -- are converging in Pittsburgh this weekend for the 11th annual Anthrocon Convention through Sunday.

The festivities offer the Furry community a chance to co-mingle with like-minded souls, no easy task when hobbies include dancing around in a mouse outfit and assuming animal identities.

But the convention also offers a chance to dispel some nasty myths.

And there are many.

Myth: Furries are all kinky sexual deviants.

Fact: Only some of them are, many Furries say.

Pop culture has conspired to cast Furry fans as a cult of twisted zoophiles, said Anthrocon Chairman Sam Conway, who goes by the nickname "Unkle Kage"after a martial arts-trained cockroach he invented.

Conway blamed the perception on an episode of the television drama "CSI," an MTV documentary on sex fetishes, and a particularly unflattering article in Vanity Fair magazine.

In fact, Conway said, Furries are harmless. A "fringe element" enjoys more-adult animal themes, in private, but most would rather watch Porky Pig, he said.

"People seem to think the adult aspect is what we're all about," said Conway, 42, who earned a doctorate in chemistry from Dartmouth and works for a pharmaceutical company in the Philadelphia area. "That's a stigma we're hoping will go away."

Myth: Furries actually believe they are animals.

Fact: Furries only identify with animals, albeit deeply.

"I have a spiritual connection to foxes," said Doug Fair, 21, of Bel Air, Md. "Here, I can feel like the spirit I believe I am but realize I never could be."

Huh?

"It's hard to explain."

Myth: All Furries wear costumes.

Fact: Only an estimated 10 to 15 percent don full-body costumes, for which some pay thousands of dollars.

Most Furries wear animal accents -- including dog collars, fluffy tails and perky ears -- but die-hards wear the full suit.

A normally awkward person morphs into a social butterfly when hiding behind a mask, Furries say.

"I'm a very shy person (and) somehow I found the courage last year to stand up in front of more people than are in my hometown and dance," said Chris Brousseau, 28, a chef from Maine who is Takala, the dancing zebra, among the Furries. "That was very special for me. ... If I wasn't wearing a costume, I'd be standing in a corner."

Myth: Furries are like many timid animals, scaring easily and quivering in the presence of humans.

Fact: Actually, this myth is partly true.

As attendees arrived Thursday, the Tribune-Review was allowed to interview Furries only in the presence of a security guard because many Furries "are terrified of reporters," Conway said.

But the public is welcome to attend the convention's lectures, art shows and workshops on how to move in an animal suit, among other activities.

And when two protesters picketed the convention yesterday, the herd did not stampede.

Conway brought an umbrella to the two young men when it started raining. He tried to talk to them, but the protesters seemed confused and startled. Like deer in headlights.

"Did you know the Furry Convention contributes $2.5 million a year to the Pittsburgh economy?" Conway asked them. The Furries hold a charity auction at each convention and since 1997 have donated $62,000, he said.

"That's nice, sir," the protester responded sheepishly.

Myth: Furries are a tiny segment of the population.

Fact: They live among you.

"Anyone and everyone can be, and probably is at least to some extent, a Furry," Conway said. "If you talk to your cat and think they care, you're a Furry."

The Furries have found a home in Pittsburgh. Past conventions were held in Albany, N.Y., and in Philadelphia, but Conway said the reception they receive here is so positive they'll keep coming back.

Chew on that.