The community and bonding that Ball State's Anthropomorphic Art Society provides is more important than the costumes they may wear, said the organization's president.

Ball State’s Anthropomorphic Art Society (AAS) focuses on the appreciation of art styles concerning anthropomorphized animals—animals with human characteristics such as being able to talk and having human emotions. However, Stephen Vogel, the president and a senior Japanese major, said what is more important is the bonding the organization experiences.

“The main purpose of the group is to bring together individuals with a common interest, give a safe and comfortable environment where these individuals can meet others with similar interest and have discussions,” Vogel said in an email.

Ball State AAS meets Thursdays at 9 p.m. in the Forum Room in the L.A. Pittenger Student Center.

Ball State AAS was officially started in Spring 2010. Members, who may also be referred to as “furries,” get together to discuss various aspects of anthropomorphic art, including crafting and how to act as a “fursuiter.” Fursuits are animal-based costumes ranging from “simple tails and ears to full costumes with mechanical/electronic components,” according to WikiFur, an offset of Wikipedia dedicated to the furry community.

Dressing in suits is just one segment of the furry community, and not something everyone involved in the group chooses to do. Ball State AAS meetings include discussions based on topics related to the community such as conventions and anthropomorphism in media. The group hosts activities such as drawing tutorials, game nights and movie viewings.

"The meetings aim to be an open-floor discussion with a topic just to get conversation going. We try to avoid it becoming a lecture," Vogel said. "This coming meeting, we are showing short animation clips with anthropomorphic art followed by any discussion of the clips."

Ball State is one of only two college anthropomorphic societies in the state, Vogel said. Appreciation groups aren't limited to college campuses such as Ball State and Purdue University, where the other group is located. Similar groups are formed in local areas where individuals can meet up and discuss their common interest.

Vogel stressed that while the furry community may be misunderstood, people should recognize that it is just one part of a person’s personality.

“A lot of people tend to feel uncomfortable around people that they know are ‘furries,’” Vogel said. “But really...they are just normal humans who have a different interest than other people.”

Allyssa Burdine, a freshman biology major, had always had an interest in anthropomorphic art and joined the group after meeting them at the activities fair this fall. She said she enjoys having a group of friends who share her passion.

“When I found a group of people here on campus that shared a common interest with me I knew I wanted to find out more about the club and everything they stood for,” Burdine said. “To anyone who doesn't understand the club, what I think they should take away is the idea that we are much like a family and it is a way for people with a common interest to come together and have a good time playing games and learning more about each other and anthropomorphic art.”

More than 5,000 people gathered in Chicago for Midwest FurFest 2015, a convention for "furries"– lovers of anthropomorphic cartoon animals, many of whom dress up in life-sized fantasy animal costumes. Members of the furry fandom often create their own "fursona"– an animal character. This avatar allows them to express characteristics quite different from their own personalities. About one in five adopt a fursona of a different gender – around 80% of furries are male.

Conventions like these offer furries and fans of anthropomorphic culture the opportunity to socialise. According to FurFest's website, the convention allowed delegates to "come together to celebrate... art, literature and performance based around anthropomorphic animals". There were lectures and art shows, as well as adults-only private parties for subgroups of the fandom. Attendees raised more than $60,000 for animal charity Save a Vet.

Furry fandom, an obscure subculture united in their passion for all things anthropomorphic, can be lucrative business – because artisanal fursuits are haute-couture.

A single design can require up to 200 hours of work and sell for thousands of dollars. The business follows seasonal trends as well: one year it’s neon colours, the next grumpy-looking characters. One season, everyone wanted to be a sled dog. It’s all, of course, about the fur – even sharks, reptiles and birds are adorably fuzzy – and Los Angeles’s fashion district has stores devoted exclusively to hundreds of varieties.

Sarah Dee, a master fursuit maker, flies out twice a year for sourcing, carefully handpicking $5,000 worth of furs (a single suit requires about 5.5 yards), dragging it across town in giant bin bags to the FedEx office and then stuffing 30-inch cardboard boxes addressed to Colorado, where she tailors suits to fulfill the fantasies of fur aficionados worldwide.

Menagerie Workshop, Dee’s one-woman fursuit empire, caters to the full furry spectra, from hobbyists content with a pair of ears or a tail to lifestylers who go all out with role play like “scritching” (scratching and grooming).

Ranging from SpaceX employees to artists, her average customer is in their late 20s – in the “sweet spot” where they have enough money to spend but are not too tied down by family and work – though she’s made costumes for people as young as 12 (with parents’ consent).

To this day, Dee has brought more than 300 “fursonas” (furry personas) to life – including Baltoro the Fox, realistic with taxidermy eyes, hand-molded silicon paws and muzzle and digitigrade hind legs; Zeke the Hyena, cartoonish with hand-stitched stripes and airbrushed abs; and Blaze, a vixen with flirty eyelashes and curvaceously padded chest.

“What draws people in is that they can create this character which is a better version of themselves,” she explains. “It’s fun to just be silly, to use your imagination. To not have to conform to what people think being an adult is like.”

A spirit animal of sorts, the fursona can be just about any real or mythological creature the individual feels connected to. Dogs and big cats never go out of style, though hybrids like “folves” (fox + wolf) and “drynx” (dragon + lynx) are catching on.

New costume makers enter the market every week and fursuits gets ever more advanced: at an additional cost, jaws can move, tails wag and eyes light up with LED-lights. No two creations are alike, though most can be machine-washed and kept shiny with a few strokes with a pet brush.

With more than 40 creations lined up, 2016 is already fully booked.

•••

Stereotyped as less innocent than they look by mainstream media, furries tend to get a bad rap. A 2001 Vanity Fair article brought up both bestiality and plushophilia (sexual attraction to stuffed animals), and defined furry fandom as “sex, religion and a whole new way of life”. The show Entourage presented a pink bunny fursuit as a sexual prop, and in CSI-episode Fur and Loathing in Las Vegas, furries are portrayed as fetishists mainly in it for the “yiff” – furry porn or sex.

“We researchers are horrified by that stuff,” says Kathleen Gerbasi, a social psychologist who has researched the furry community extensively. “Because it really doesn’t represent the reality we see in the fandom.”

In her experience, people have either never heard of furries or they have a wildly distorted idea of it. As a result, fur fandom have become far more stigmatized than other similar nerd niches, such as anime and cosplay.

When Dee made her first costume – a bear, out of couch cushions – eight years ago, she was reluctant to be associated with the community, even as an artist. “Even I had some preconceived notions of like, ‘Gosh, furries are a bunch of deviants; kind of weird,’” Dee remembers, laughing. “And I still have questions.”

Even today, Dee, who quit her advertising job in Denver in 2012 for full-time fursuit making, doesn’t use her real name for business.

“I do think ‘fursectution’ is real,” says Gerbasi (who does not identify as a furry), using a portmanteau term referring to perceived persecution of the fandom from outside elements. “And I think it’s because people are afraid of things they don’t understand.”

She recalls last year’s suspected hate crime at Midwest Furfest in Chicago, which was evacuated after chlorine gas was leaked into the conference venue. Last year, she came across Facebook posts of people claiming they would bring guns to Anthrocon, the world’s largest furry convention, and personally alerted FBI.

For Samuel Conway, a professional research scientist and chairman of Anthrocon, the skewed image of the furry world is explained by its defiantly personal/introvert nature: whereas all other fandoms are consumers of properties put out by studios, authors and networks, furries invent their own idols.

“Furry fandom is unique among fan cultures in that we are not consumers, but rather creators,” Kage explains. “Star Trek fans are chasing someone else’s dream. Furries create our own fandom.“

Unfortunately, Conway explains, the public tend to be very suspicious of things they don’t understand, with an inclination to presume it’s in some way perverted.

“Furry fandom is not now – nor has it ever been – born of a sexual fetish,” Conway insists. “There are no more or fewer persons of alternative sexuality in our fandom than anywhere else.”

If anything, that cliche may be rooted in the community’s inherent tolerance and proud reputation as a safe space: furry fans may simply not feel the need to hide who they are when they’re among friends who won’t judge. He cites comic book historian Mark Evanier: “Furries are fans of each other.”

“People don’t realize it, but the whole anthropomorphism is very mainstream,” says Gerbasi, who spearheaded the multidisciplinary Anthropomorphic Research Project, which has studied about 7,000 furry fans from all continents, except Antarctica (which actually had a small furry gathering, too). While there are certain demographic trends – almost 80% are male, many work in science or tech, with a disproportionate share not identifying as heterosexual – the data, by and large, shows no indication that furries would be psychologically unhealthy.

“Cartoon animals have a universal appeal,” says Conway, who fursuits as ‘Uncle Kage’: a samurai cockroach. “A love of animals and a fascination with the idea of them acting as we do transcends most national, geographic and religious boundaries.”

While the fursuits are the most visible, they only make up only about 20% convention-goers, Conway adds: the rest are performers, writers, puppeteers, dancers, artists and “just plain old fans”.

For a minority, however, it is more than that: 46% of furry fans surveyed by Gerbasi reported identifying as less than 100% human – with 41% admitting that if they could be not human at all, they would. Twenty-nine percent of them reported experiencing being a “non-human species trapped in a human body”.

The parallels with gender identity disorder, upon which the hypothesis was modeled, were striking: much like some transgender individuals report being born the wrong sex, some furries feel a disconnect with their bodies, as if they were stuck in the wrong species. The condition, which Gerbasi et al labeled “species identity disorder”, had a physiological component too, with many reporting experiencing phantom body parts, like tails or wings.

Gerbasi still has no answers to why these individuals feel they’re not human, but stresses the importance for health providers to take them seriously, and without the ridicule that sometimes afflicts even her own research.

As the furry scene continues to grow – last year’s Anthrocon attracted 6,348 visitors – the fans hope for greater acceptance.

“I want folks to realize that we are not any special breed apart, if you’ll pardon the pun,” says Conway. “We have scientists, lawyers, physicians, firefighters, soldiers, police officers, schoolteachers, construction workers, custodians, musicians, journalists – just about anyone that is likely to pass you on a city street may well be a furry fan.”

Dee too, who remains at sidelines of the subculture but frequents conventions to advertise her business, agrees that the tendency to make furry fandom shorthand for sexual paraphilia is utterly misguided.

Throughout Menagerie’s history, only one client ever asked for a suspicious alternation – a zipper between the legs – which Dee agreed to at $1,000 extra, adding that if he ever down the road needed repairs (otherwise offered at $40/hour), she wouldn’t work on it, “because that’s gross”.

For most, Dee believes, furry fandom is more about escapism than anything else.

Slipping into a fursuit can be catharsis – allowing an otherwise shy and reserved person to transform into someone, or something, else – if only momentarily.

“People seem to find a family and a friend group there – people who like them for who they are, and for who they wanna be,” she explains. “Maybe the character is this really buff tiger guy but it doesn’t seem to matter the person is a shorter, overweight, typical nerdy-looking guy.

“They put on that costume and they just become someone completely outside themselves. It gives them anonymity to just, you know, be who they are and act how they want.”

Things have changed a lot over the years. We’ve got faster computers, smarter phones and slightly more equality. These, of course, are changes people experience in day-to-day life.

Another, more subtle change society has experienced recently, is a change in meaning of the phrase “my fine, furry friend.” What used to be used to describe our pets can now be used to describe a subset of society that call themselves the Furry Fandom.

According to WikiFur, the Furry encyclopedia, the Furry Fandom is a group of people who appreciate “anthropomorphic animals in art, literature, cartoons, [and] pop culture…” Basically, this means they have an interest in animals with human attributes.

Very few people have had experience with Furries outside of television. Unfortunately, the media tends to portray Furries in an incredibly negative light. Natalie Tindall, Ph.D., a professor at Georgia State who has done research on the development of fandoms, said her first experience with Furries was on an episode of “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.”

A man was killed in his fur suit. Tindall went on to say that Furry culture “tends to be very – at least from the media portrayals of it – it tends to be very sexualized.” This media portrayal has led many to believe that being a Furry is primarily a fetish, when in reality, it is a community

The beginnings of the furry fandom can be traced back to the post-World War II era, when cartoons about human-like animals shifted from an all-age focus to being primarily directed towards children.

According to WikiFur, these children then grew up with the desire to create similar characters for older age groups. In his autobiography, “Surprised by Joy,” author C.S. Lewis admits to developing his own fascination with anthropomorphic animals at a young age. Was C.S. Lewis a Furry? Who can say, but he did certainly like fawns.

The first open “Furry Party” at a notable convention was in 1986. Westercon, a science fiction convention held in Sacramento, was the first to showcase furry artwork and short stories at their 39th convention. The success of this party eventually led to the showcasing of furry fanfictions and fanart across California.

Since then, standalone Furry conventions have boomed in popularity, with more than 30 hosted across the country, the most popular being Anthrocon in Pennsylvania, which had more than 6,000 attendees last year.

One reason Furry Fandom has exploded is the rise of Internet and Wi-Fi, which allowed people to build a community with others who shared their interests in a safer environment.

Tindall believes this sense of community can offer members of the Furry Fandom a sense of escape from their daily lives.

“They have something. They have a sense of whimsy and a sense of fun and a sense of belonging, and they just want to enjoy it. and it’s pleasurable and in this time why wouldn’t you want to have some escapism,” Tindall said.

While Tindall may be right theoretically, she cannot give a clear insight into what it’s like to live as a Furry, so The Signal sat down with Jason*, 31, whose Fursona is called “Wolf Genesis.”

*Names in article withheld to protect the identity of those in this story.

What’s it like to be a Furry? Is it like being part of other fandoms?

J: “It’s like anything else, I suppose. Like any fandom, you’ll have the aspects you absolutely love about it, and other aspects not so much.”

Do you have a fur suit?

J: “I don’t have a fursuit, though I admit I want one. They do cost a pretty penny, though. Full body suits that can range at a thousand dollars and more, to partial suits – that is, handpaws, footpaws, tails, or headpieces – which are naturally less costly.”

How involved are you with Furry life?

J: “I am an artist. I draw furries. I do have a tail that I wear from time to time, and collect various things involving. . .wolves. I haven’t gone out of my way to join profile pages such as Facebook for furries, unless you count my art page. Otherwise, I do play a game that is a heavily text based role playing game.”

What drew you to the lifestyle?

J: “I honestly think there are a number of factors that come into play here. One being…[the] childhood cartoon shows I grew up with. Sonic the Hedgehog, Tailspin, Road Rovers, SWAT Kats, and Biker Mice From Mars, to name a few. Seeing so many characters given human style characteristics, voices, acting became a part of me in a sense, and reminders of those happy times of childhood play a huge part in my enjoyment of the fandom. Another thing is the artwork. People can create constantly unique combinations and hybrids of things, detail it in ways we couldn’t imagine before, and bring things to life that is basically candy for the eyes.”

Are there any myths you want to dispel about being a Furry?

J: “Definitely. Being a Furry does not necessarily mean I’m in love with animals or have any sort of zoophilia. Being a Furry ranges from simply having a fascination with anthropomorphic beings, to… well, yes the extreme sense of sexual attraction. But I would like to impress that the main difference in being a furry versus a zoophiliac, involving the fantasies on the extreme end, is consent. Being a furry does not equal being into bestiality. The second myth is it’s all sexual and fursuits. It’s really not. That is one sect that gets a lot of attention, but not really the fandom as a whole. Some furries, like myself, love the fandom because it can personify traits we’d like to see in ourselves, or traits from connections we have with animals, as some feel with spirit animals or spirit guides.”

Do you think Furries will ever be fully accepted?

J: “The furry fandom will make it to being accepted when facts make it out first. When the myths and assumptions are widely no longer accepted, when people see that we’re rather a harmless bunch. A little odd maybe but what fandom isn’t?”
Even though we have a long way to go until Furries are accepted in society, that’s not going to stop people like Jason from living their lives true to themselves. The Furry Fandom is still growing and evolving every day.

“Come for the fur, stay for the hugs.”

This is the slogan we work out 20 minutes into a discussion with three self-described “furries” — members of the fandom known for their animal-inspired costumes (and huge conventions across the country) but are still waiting for a multifaceted portrayal in popular culture.

They’re in street clothes, chatting amiably here at a cafe just a short walk from the UC Berkeley campus, where Bay Area furries (alternatively, “furs”) gather on the first Tuesday of every month to share the latest in art and meet other furries. Many have found friendships and lifelong bonds amidst the furry, feathered and scaly “fursonas” that populate the community.

“Being a transplant from Chicago. I had no one to really hang out with,” said Jason Panke, a local furry at the gathering. “(Here) you get to do fun things, go downtown San Francisco and get on trolleys, everyone in fursuits, waving at people. … It brings happiness to a lot of people.”

The meetup serves as an essential in-person gathering for a community concentrated extensively online. Furries have flourished in online communities such as sofurry.net* and Tumblr and witnessed their growing numbers at annual conventions throughout the country.

The Berkeley cafe meetup has been going on for at least eight years. Elsewhere in the Bay Area, the community meets consistently for barbecues, bowling and Frolic — where once a month, they take over San Francisco’s Stud Bar with custom art and costumes.

The gatherings give furries a chance to trade “fursonas” — alter-egos used in the furry community that play off animal and human personality traits, often represented through art in social media profiles or in full costume. Jeff Bowman, a 2009 UC Berkeley graduate who’s organized the meetup for years, describes the fursona as an “open-source framework” for creative expression derived from games, myths and popular culture. Some furries inhabit multiple characters at a time.

Many furs encounter their first taste of the fandom online in fan-generated art and stories. Alex Roviras, another local there Tuesday, found his way to the fandom as a high schooler when he clicked on a wrong link that brought him to stories centered on human-like wolf characters. A long-time fan of “The Lion King” and the fierce Digimon Garurumon, Roviras was intrigued.

“I was like, this is not what I’m looking for, but I’m interested in writing too,” Roviras said. “I came across furry and looked at it and kind of went with it. Things just kind of clicked.”

Roviras recounted how quickly he was intrigued not only by the stories but the art. As he delved further into the fandom, the community became a place where many interests — art, writing, friendship and exploration — intersected. Roviras said that for people reconciling their own sexual identities with the confusing norms of high school — and the bullying that can come with them — the fandom offered a place of acceptance. This was true for Darkwolf, who added that her girlfriend, who is transgender, found solace in the community as she underwent her own transition.

“Coming across furries and how accepting and open that was allowed them to kind of accept themselves and become comfortable with themselves and their own sexuality,” Roviras said. “Or in my case I figured out, ‘Hey, I’m bisexual.’”

The fandom has long struggled with stereotypes that its members are a fringe group, mostly male, united by a desire for sex in costumes. A 2003 episode of “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation” ruffled feathers within the community when it portrayed a Las Vegas “Fur Con” as a spot for anonymous, fur-filled orgies. The depiction of “fur piles” or “cuddle pods,” Darkwolf said, was overblown.

“We’re not more sexual than the ‘Star Trek’ fandom or the ‘Star Wars’ fandom,” she said. “It’s just expression and being sexual are more accepted.”

The episode was Darkwolf’s first look at furries, then as a high schooler in Tucson, Arizona, reckoning with her own emerging identity with fur. Amid the episode’s spectacle of promiscuous furries, she saw in Gil Grissom, the lead detective, an attitude of acceptance.

“He said, ‘What’s wrong with your deeper animal instinct?’ and he always spoke about it in a positive way,” she said. “That’s what really kinda light-bulbed with me.”

In recent years, the fandom’s numbers have been growing in hotspots such as Seattle and Philadelphia at conventions such as Rainfurrest and their most popular, AnthroCon, which last year saw more than 6,000 in attendance.

There is no official, overarching organization dedicated to furs. Instead, annual traditions such as San Jose’s Further Confusion, hosted over four days every January, are organized by dedicated volunteers. Bowman, who works nearby as a software engineer at Google, is next year’s Further Confusion chairman.

This year’s Further Confusion featured dance competitions, a parade and a gauntlet of “Critterlympics.” Some people anticipated awkwardness this year when the convention shared its venue with a Super Smash Brothers tournament. But after the initial shock, Darkwolf said, the two groups found common ground.

“A lot of the smash people drop out Saturday night and go to our parties at Further Confusion,” Darkwolf said. “Because furries know how to party.”

Next year, Bowman said, the event plans to upgrade to the largest venue they could find: the San Jose Convention Center.

“It’s like I’m going to a party and everyone’s my friend — I just haven’t met them yet,” Darkwolf said, describing her girlfriend’s convention experience.

Full suits can cost upward of thousands of dollars, some equipped with LED lights, special ventilation and speakers. “God forbid if you have to go to the bathroom,” Panke adds, which is why conventions such as Further Confusion have cooling stations where fursonas can be momentarily disengaged for much-needed air conditioning between dance sessions. For the above reasons many opt for partial suits such as ears, gloves and tails, but often the designs are custom.

Darkwolf, with a soft spot for the “oddball creatures” of the animal kingdom, attends conventions as an axolotl — an amphibious salamander — complete with wide-set blue eyes and external gills frilled with pink fur. She’s a frequent target from kids who want to share stories of their pet lizards or pose for impromptu photo-ops.

“I love to make the kids smile so much,” Darkwolf said. “I can’t help myself, it’s so adorable.”

As the meet-up winds down late into the night, members say goodbye, addressing each other by their fursonas and giving tight hugs. Bowman, who met his fiancee through the fandom, notes that many have found lifelong friendships through their characters and friends of friends.

“If there’s any misconception to make about the fandom, it’s that it’s a place to find sex as opposed to a place to find friends and a place to find love,” he said.

Carly Conley is even-tempered and sports a sweet, inviting smile. She doesn't get in people's faces, she doesn't raise her voice.

But when Conley places a bright orange, fuzzy fox head over her own, a sassier side of the Purdue University student emerges. The fox head, named Luna, is part of Conley's "fursona."

"It makes you feel more comfortable sometimes," the forestry and natural resources junior said. "It’s not necessarily escapism. I’m not losing who I am ... She (Luna) is an extension of me.”

Conley is part of a growing, but long-existing, subculture that likes to dress up, or "suit up" as she refers to it, as cartoon-like animals. The members refer to themselves as furries. They have a deep love for animals and some even feel more comfortable in their fursuits than in their own skin.

The furry group largely has a reputation of being fetishists and sexual deviants, but those part of the fandom and those who research it say that's not what furries are about.

Conley's hoping her new student group, the Purdue Anthropomorphic Animal Club, will help break down those stereotypes on campus and give fellow anthropomorphism enthusiasts a place to meet like-minded people. The group isn't specifically for furries, she said, but some members are part of the fur fandom.

Though it just recently became an official student group, the club has been active "underground" for about two years, Conley said. The last time students tried to establish a similar type of club in 2009, she said, they were bullied into extinction.

She's optimistic this time will be different, though the group has already run into opposition. After putting up posters around campus promoting its callout meeting, people quickly began bashing the anthropomorphic club on the anonymous social media app Yik Yak.

The posts included threats to light the group members on fire and crucify them. Some called them autistic, Conley said.

"I think, overall, society is more accepting than it used to be. There is still some intolerance there," said Sean McLane, a Purdue IT staff member and the club's supervisor.

McLane has identified as a furry for 25 years, but doesn't have a fursuit. He is also the supervisor for the campus' brony group, a subculture that revolves around the fandom of the "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic" television series.

The general misconception and curiosity about furries has brought some scholars to study them. Kathy Gerbasi, a psychology professor at Niagara County Community College in New York, stumbled upon the fandom years ago and has since written a number of peer-reviewed articles on it.

She went into her first furry convention in 2005 to survey attendees not knowing what to expect, having heard the typical stereotypes that furries are crazy and into strange sex. But she didn't find any of that to be true for the mass majority.

"The fursuit is a way to try on a different personality," Gerbasi said. "Like if you're shy, you can be more outgoing as a dancing wolf in a fursuit."

And though furries love to hug, she said, the widespread rumor that they have sex in their costumes isn't true and would be impossible.

There are some fur-fans that are in it for the sex, McLane said, but they're what Samuel Conway, the president of the largest anthropomorphic convention, refers to as the "Uncle Harry" of the subculture.

"Every family has a weird Uncle Harry. He always comes to holidays and does something bad ... We don’t really care much for him, but he’s family ... That part of the community is our Uncle Harry," McLane said. "Uncle Harry is not the true representation of the fandom.”

The increase of younger people coming into the group has also steered it into a more innocent community, McLane said.

The furries make up a silly, fun-loving society, he said, but they're also extremely giving and charitable.

Last year's Illinois-based convention, Midwest FurFest, raised more than $62,000 for Save-A-Vet, a charity that pairs retired military and law enforcement dogs and other service animals with disabled veterans.

Conley said she plans to have the Purdue campus group attend conventions together next semester. But the typical meetup will involve members getting together to watch anthropomorphic movies, study, go hiking and occasionally go out "suiting," for those who are furries and own a suit.

“I’m trying to just bring (the group) back into light and say, 'We are not Uncle Harry. We’re better than Uncle Harry. We are college kids and this is what we like to do,'” she said.

WEST LAFAYETTE, Ind. (Feb. 24, 2016)-- A group of Purdue students are changing the culture on campus and showing what it means to be accepting of others. They refer to themselves as "furries." We talked to them about the significance of walking around campus in a fur suit-- even if it's not Halloween.

Purdue student "Luna" dresses in a fur suit as a fox. She puts on her fur suit and channels her "fursona." She's apart of the Purdue Anthropomorphic Animal Club.

"People who wish to put on fur suits and explore more of the aspects of being an animal with human characteristics," said faculty advisory Sean McLane.

Luna doesn't speak while in her fur suit, but she channels a more playful, outgoing personality.

Furries aren't new to Purdue. They were on campus a couple of years ago, but were bullied so much they decided to stop suiting up. But Luna and her friends are giving their passion another shot.

"For my character it's almost an extension of my being. It's somebody that I wish I could be so I kind of strive to be like my character," said furry Jared Wulfe.

Furries have gained the reputation for feeding a fetish or using this art form in a sexual fashion, but this group says they're here to dispel that myth.

"Furry is not exclusively a fetish. It's an expression of creativity. While there are people who get into the adult fetishy things that's not what it's all about," said McLane.

Jared, who channels a character named "Cinder," feels more comfortable in social settings when he's in character.

"After creating this personality I wanted to achieve I got to be more active in speaking. I like to go out and meet new people," said Jared.

Community Health Network counselor Kimble Richardson says being in an accepting environment plays a huge role in the furry fandom culture.

"You find that other people like it too they're very accepting. You don't have to continue to explain it or feel strange or ostracized," said Richardson.

The furry community will host a convention in Indy this summer. For more information on IndyFurCon, click here.

Several US radio stations played out an explicit podcast to listeners after an apparent hack.

The Furcast group says the 90-minute podcast went out without its knowledge and it is "deeply sorry".

Two Texas stations were among those which broadcast the material, aimed at "furries"- people interested in animals that are given human traits.

Broadcasters have been advised to change passwords on the hardware many of them use.

Barix streaming boxes are popular with broadcasters and PA professionals.

Furcast said that multiple server requests for its content during the incident were in the name of "Barix Streaming Client" and that many of the individual boxes involved were visible on Shodan, a search engine for devices connected via the Internet of Things.

The BBC has contacted Barix for comment but the problem appears to be with security settings not being updated by the box owners.

"Someone is attacking Barix Boxes," wrote a member of the Alabama Broadcast Association.

"Several radio stations and at least one radio network have been compromised. The Barix receiver is pointed to an obscene podcast and its password changed so it can only be reset manually."

Furries are people who have a fascination with anthropomorphism and often dress in animal costumes.

The furry group Furcast describes itself as "an improv comedy-themed furry podcast with no censor" and denies that its main aim is to create sexual material.

"Our content is discovered by individuals who specifically seek what we produce, and they do not normally come into contact with it via public means," they wrote.

"We have no interest in being discovered by a mainstream audience."
'Unknown source'

Texas radio station KXAX found itself broadcasting Furcast's podcast on Tuesday.

"At about 9am we were notified that a programme was playing on the station that did not originate from this studio," the station wrote on Facebook.

"We found out that our equipment had been hacked and was broadcasting a podcast or a stream from an unknown source.

"We were able to eventually get the problem resolved. But still want to apologise to anyone who may have heard the programming."

KXAX general manager Jason Mclelland told Ars Technica there did not appear to have been a reason for the hack.

Another station affected, KIFT, said in a statement that it had only been able to regain control of its output when an engineer physically went to the site of the hacked remote transmitter.

"We are working with equipment manufacturers and auditing the security of our own systems to avoid any repeats of this incident," it said.

Furries — those most maligned members of the geek tribe — are finally having their moment. Last month, when a fur convention was held at a Vancouver hotel that was also serving as a temporary shelter for Syrian refugees, the world beheld Syrian children giggling in delight at adults dressed as lynxes and ocelots. And of course there’s “Zootopia’’ — the hit animated film featuring an anthropomorphic fox, which Disney cannily marketed directly to the furry contingent.

What is a furry? They are, roughly speaking, people with an abiding interest in, identification with, or yen to dress up as, animals. For some, there’s an erotic component; for others the thrill is more spiritual. Either way, furries have been bashed ever since the Internet discovered their previously underground community. Humorist Lore Sjöberg famously placed them below “Trekkies Who Get Married In Klingon Garb” and “Pokemon Fans Over the Age of Six” in his Geek Hierarchy flowchart all the way back in 2002.

But furries are unfairly scorned. An interest in other animals is nearly a defining trait of human beings — we’re far more likely than other predators to connect with nonhuman species, a trait that may have been a key part of our evolution as social beings. People have literally been dressing up like and identifying with animals for hundreds of thousands of years. The conservationist and children’s writer Thornton Burgess wrote in 1922 that “[t]his interest is instinctive,” going back to the “dawn man,” and modern science has backed him up. Vanessa LoBue, a researcher at Rutgers, found in a 2012 paper that children prefer live animals — even snakes and spiders — over inanimate toys.

In donning furry masks and creating fursonas, furries are just expressing the same urge of trans-species empathy that has powered countless iterations of human culture, from Stone-Age animism to the animal-headed gods of Egypt to the fables of Aesop and legends of kitsune and werewolves. It’s something those Syrian kids immediately recognized — inside those fursuits, the furries of Vancouver were simultaneously less, and a lot more, human.

THE phrase "animal lover" might bring up images of people with a lot of pets, volunteering at a rescue centre.

However, in one community, it means something completely different.

Members of the furry fandom, or furries, are so obsessed with humanoid animal characters they go to conventions to celebrate them, get suits made up to look like one and can even be sexually interested in them.

The furry fandom is a community of people who love "humanoid animals"– or anthropomorphic animals and are also interested in animals with human qualities.

This could range from a more conventional liking for ladies wearing cat ears or bunny tails – to bombarding the Frosties mascot with declarations of love.

Although the following began in the 80s it blew up when Disney released their version of Robin Hood – with a very human fox as Robin.

After the recent release of film Zootopia this year has seen a new wave of people converting to the fandom.

Furries can come in a wide variety of different forms.

At one end of the spectrum, there are those who prefer to simply draw or create art dedicated to human-like animals.

But at the other extreme, there are furries who pay thousands of pounds for custom-made suits, have their own "fursona" and even like to have sex in character.

A "fursona" is a persona created by a furry – one they believe reflects who they truly are inside and they have a lot of fun in character as the animal.

This can go as far as having a custom-made suit built, which costs around £2,000 in total, creating Twitter accounts for their "fursona" and going about their day to day business dressed as the animal.

There are companies which thrive purely from making costumes for members of the furry fandom.

In some cases, being a furry fan can go even further than that.

Some members of the fandom even get sexual kicks out of having sex in character and there are plenty of porn sites dedicated to giving some furries their kicks.

"The furry fandom spreads far and wide," said one furry, who didn't want to be named.

"A lot of furries feel like their animal fursona is truly part of them and when they put the suit on, they become truly who they are.

"A fursona is an animal identity created by the person. You can be whatever species you like, whatever gender you like, have whatever traits you want. It is completely down to you."

He added that his personal "fursona" is a fox crossed with a cat because he wanted to create one that reflected his true personality.

"I personally got into the fandom when I was quite young, and felt like a bit of a misfit in my every day life. I couldn't really explain why I got into it, but it just happened.

"I think the web has helped a lot with bringing the furry fandom together. We all tend to have Twitter accounts set up for our fursonas, and it's a forum where we can truly be who we want.

"There's a big following on Tumblr, too, which is a bit of a home for people with kinks."

And although this furry claims he isn't part of the fandom for sex, he does know of plenty of people who are.

"We often act differently when we are all together – we act more freely like animals sometimes.

"This can include scratching each other, nuzzling each other, hugging and petting each other – but that isn't necessarily sexual.

"I do know a lot of people who feel sex is an important aspect of their furry lives. For some, it is freeing to have sex in character. I think this is true for a lot of people, getting dressed up for their partners.

"But I know that furries will not usually have sex in their fur suits. They are hot, heavy and also very expensive. They wouldn't want to risk staining or ruining them and also, that isn't really part of it."

The sexual side of the furry fandom came into the media spotlight earlier this year, when it was revealed that Tony the Tiger, character of Frosties cereal, was being harassed on Twitter by horny furries.

It emerged the character was being bombarded with lewd tweets and images from furry fans idolising him.

When the account begged fans to stop, they found a new idol in Chester Cheetah, the Cheetos ambassador.

Furries are keen to reiterate that they aren't attracted to animals, however – only animals with human qualities, or humans with animal qualities.

"It's not beastiality. It's not about having sex with cats or dogs," the anonymous furry told Daily Star Online.

There are "fur-cons" all over the world where fans can meet up and have fun with each other – and some of the proceeds from the events even go to charity.

Plenty of books and studies have been done on the furry community, and there was even a furries newspaper until 2010, when the internet began to take over.

Jonathan Thurston, who runs Howl Publications and has written numerous books on the topic, said: "The media tend to portray furries as sexual deviants, who either have sex with animals or who have sex in animal costumes.

"To contest that, however, fursuits are personally made. They can easily cost $3,000 (£2,000) and having them custom made for sex purposes is laughable to most of the fandom.

"The furry fandom is about community. My first time attending a furry meet-up was strictly for research purposes.

"I wanted to see if all these people wore leather harnesses, tails and sex gear in public.

"However, I was honestly unimpressed when I realised it was just a bunch of close friends playing Gameboy games in a coffee shop."

Jonathan adds that the fandom welcomed him with "open paws" and he adopted the name Thurlston Howl – a fox-wolf hybrid – as his "fursona".

"I am a member of the furry fandom because I love the people and believe it or not it's kind of fun imagining myself not as an animal, but as an anthropomorphic animal."

Jonathan says being part of the fandom isn't sexual at all for him – but points out members who do enjoy the sexual side aren't really that different from anyone who dresses in a risque way.

"Furries don't have sex while making animal noises. They don't do anything non-furries wouldn't do.

"Look at the Playboy bunny, the constantly sexualised cat costumes for women at Halloween and the use of animal-based sex terminology.

"None of these are sexualised 'animals'. These are sexualised 'anthro-animals'.

"Animals that stand on two legs, have mostly human anatomy, but with animal features.

"The feeling of being turned on by sexualised furry art is no different really. It's a fantasy for anthro-animal sexual contact, but a fantasy that no furry actually believes can/will/should happen."

Thousands of dollars in property was stolen from a Henderson storage facility, but one item in particular might raise eyebrows.

A "furry animal" suit that looks like a mascot costume was taken, and the owner is heartbroken.

When Steavphan Feasel walks around in his wolf suit, he waves and dances as his alter ego, Oreo.

Feasel says he took on the character as a way to stop being himself for a while, and a way to make friends with other "furries."

"We just see it as a comfort zone because a lot of us are shy," he said. "[It's about] feeling free basically, away from the whole human thing."

The suit is worth $2,600, and now it's gone.

Oreo was stolen from Feasel's unit at Public Storage on Sunset Road in Henderson, along with bicycles, RC cars, and construction equipment.

Cory Ausiello says his unit was also burglarized. His heart sank when he discovered what happened.

"It's really hard to know that the stuff is gone," Ausiello said.

Public Storage's manager wouldn't answer any questions about the burglaries. 13 Action News left a message at the corporate office that wasn't returned.

As for Oreo, a friend of Feasel's spotted the suit on Fremont Street downtown, but that was about a week ago and they're no closer to finding the costume now than when it was first taken.