"We're sorry," they told him. "Your fish is at another con."
Unhappily, the otter lingered a few more days at VancouFur, meeting all sorts of strange new people (and old friends too). When they asked him why he had no fish, he could only scowl into his drink.
He explored all over the hotel, but found no fish of any kind (though plenty of Church's Chicken).
One day he found a gathering of furries, all marching single file down corridors and through rooms. The otter was unpleasantly surprised to find the line did not lead to the fish buffet table, but to a large empty room!
Gruffily, he sat through several minutes of photos before stalking off, heading back to his lair in the woods empty-pawed.
Perhaps on future adventures he will find the fishy object of his desires!

All is peaceful in the great silent forest in which the otter has made his home, until one morning...
An unassuming boulder resting against a rock face begins to stir, rocking back and forth, further and further, until it finally rolls to the side.

From out of the darkness behind it peers a sleepy (and angry) looking otter. After a long, cold winter, he has awoken, ready to renew his hunt for the dastardly thief who stole his fish!

He sniffs at the air, then gruffs as the wind picks up, still cold air piercing his shaggy pelt. He had awoken a few months too early, it seems - but now that he was awake, it was too much trouble to head back to bed.

Rubbing his bleary eyes, the otter once again stomps through the underbrush, sending shrubbery and small animals flying as he pads towards his next destination - a gathering of furries called Vancoufur!

Perhaps he will see a few of you there!

*stomps in, grumbling, and pauses to glare at each and every one of you*

In August, I will be stomping my way to a little campground adventure in Oregon called "Campfire Tails!" I know it's short warning so if I don't see you there you will be forgiven!

However I will also be at Rainfurrest in September. If you fail to show up I will be very angry. So very angry.

There will be no escape! *gruffs*

The angry otter ploughed his way through underbrush, pushing saplings aside and stomping through once-peaceful forest glades. Birds flew off in a panic as angry gruffs punctuated heavy stomping.

It had been many months since the otter had set off on his journey for his missing fish, with little to show for it. Whomever had stolen his prize had made a clean getaway. And yet the otter kept on searching, undeterred in his quest.

The otter's ears suddenly perked as he heard rustling in bushes up ahead. He assumed a fighting stance as the rustling grew louder. Whatever it was, it was coming closer. Perhaps another fish thief! Maybe even the one that had his fish!

The angry otter stood, paws on hips, glaring ferociously at the bushes, preparing himself for the worst. The shrubbery stopped rustling for a few breathless moments as he glowered at it. Suddenly, out of the bushes popped a small furry creature, straight at him!

The angry otter jumped back in surprise. It was a smaller otter with light brown fur, and a pleasant disposition (though most furries he met were more pleasant than he)

"Who are you, and what do you want?" said the angry otter, looking stern, hoping to scare him.

"I'm  Serv," said the little otter, not looking the least bit afraid, "and you need to chill out a bit."

The angry otter, slightly displeased at the little otter's lack of fear, gruffed and stomped a paw down. "What were you doing in those bushes? And was it you who stole my fish? Tell me!"

Serv shrugged. "I don't know who stole your fish...and I'm just finding a nice place to sit and smoke a while. Wanna join me?"

The angry otter sniffed suspiciously at Serv. "Trying to drug me? That won't work - now stop trying to distract me - tell me where to find my fish!" He crossed his arms, tapping a foot impatiently. Serv looked unimpressed.

"Look, if a fish is all you want, I'll just go and catch you one. I'm a champion fisher you know."

The angry otter scratched his head. In his months of tracking down his stolen fish, catching a new, fresh fish hadn't occurred to him. He pondered for a bit.

"I'm not so good at catching fish" he admitted finally, looking a bit embarassed. He thought for a bit longer. "So...you really meant it when you said you'd help me catch one?" he said hopefully.

"Come with me, let's stick together for a while" said Serv. "Do you want a big fish or a small one?"

The angry otter's stomach growled and he licked his lips. "A big one! The biggest one you can catch!"

They set off together towards a nearby body of water, big otter bulldozing his way through the undergrowth, smaller otter following in his trail of destruction, chatting all the way.

*clears his throat loudly, looking displeased indeed*

JUST for your information, I am not...overweight. And I resent the accusations!
I simply have a thick winter pelt. It just happens to be the thickest in my belly area! *he crosses his arms, gruffing angrily*

*he stops, glaring around at you all, and chews on a celery stick*

The next one of you to poke fun of my...pelt gets a smack with an otter rudder!
*he waves his rudder at you with a paw, threateningly*

*pokes his head in, gruffing*

Just a little quick news, I'll be at FC! Those who I don't see there will be gruffed at most harshly! Unless, of course you bring fish next time I see you.


This will most likely be the only time I ever post an advertisement in my journals, but if you'd like to get some toony, inexpensive art give this boy a look:  serv He wants to come to FC too and to get there he is willing to work his paws to the bone for YOU.

$10 for a badge is pretty decent for the quality of art you get with this dude...check it out!
http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/2942611/

*gruffs, stomping into view*

During a visit to Chicago, I felt a presence. An almost familiar presence, quite like me but at the same time not like me at all...turning a corner, I found myself nose-to-nose with my doppelganger!

The same in almost all ways except for fur color - and to my surprise, a happy, friendly expression! An otter by the name of Snitcher! (owned by DukeFawks)

See for yourself below of our first meeting and what happened after.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsHW2yPkFTo

Ages ago, when furry was still in its infancy, a group of otters came together to publish a great work. This piece of literature would define how otters everywhere would conduct their behavior and would earn otters the reputation of being dignified, respectable members of society.

Unfortunately, these great plans fell through when it was realized that they were being written up by a bunch of otters. Indeed it is a miracle they were able to finish as many rules as they did, before finding a slide somewhere or a fish to eat!

Without further ado here is a copy of that ancient manuscript. While a few of the names are familiar most of the contributors have been sadly lost to time. Also a fish fell on the bottom half of the manuscript, cutting it off prematurely. *gruffs angrily* If anyone has a full copy of the rules, please let me know!

---

THIS IS A COPY OF THE BOOK OF OTTER RULES

---

0) Stop whatever you're doing and pay attention to the otter. :3 -- Warwick
1) All rules set forth here are subject to the innate chaos inherent
in otters: i.e. we get to ignore them anytime we want.
--Noctor.
2) If it's not fun, an otter won't do it.--Noctor
3) The likelihood of an otter taking an action is in direct
proportion to the general chaos it adds to the universe.--Noctor.
4) An otter has to lick at least one person's nose a day: it makes
them crosseyed which always adds chaos to the system.--Flint
5) An otter can not, at any given moment, be expected to make
sense.--Kuurn
6) A thing is either food, water, another otter, or a rock.--Warwick
7) If nobody's watching, you'll be able to get away with it.
--Warwick
8) If someone /is/ watching, you're more than cute enough to get
away with it an yway.--Warwick.
9) What rules? And where's the food? I was told food was
involved!--Gryn
10) It is to be a given if you tell an otter _not_ to do something,
and that something has even a remote possiblity of being fun,
the otter will almost certainly do it. --Jericho
11) An otter at rest just hasn't decided what to do yet.---Waveflyer
12) One otter cannot occupy two places at once....but he/she will
certainly try to. --Waveflyer
13) If you can't nuzzle it, play with it, or bite it... pee on it. --
Gilead
14) Like, an otter is the most at home in, y'know, water! So, like
otters are th e greatest natural surfers! Fer sure! Use that
tail, man, and go fer the curl! -- Dean_Wilson <Noctor's Note:
Dean's autograph follows here.. it's not often we get gold
meadalist's signing something like this..>
16) Otters don't count so well. -- Smoke
17) As soon as they think they know the rules, change them. -- Smoke
18) If you can't win with reason, or force, baffle them with playfulness.
Any otter can confuse any non-otter that way. -- Sandy.Claws
19) Otter's Law: Anything that _can_ be played with, _will_ be played with.
-- Sandy.Claws.
20) This book is one thing, my teeth are another; Steal not the one
for fear of the otter.---Tarka
21) Otters became aware of their destiny: to belong to the playful
minority as oposed to the serious majority.---Tarka
22) When an otter begins to think first and act latter. Worry.---Tarka
23) It is a law of otter life, as certain as gravity: They love people
and play with things.---Tarka
24) We are really Otters from outer space. We can tell. By the way furs
look at us with wide-eyed wonder, that such a creature could exist,
let alone talk to them.---Tarka
25) An otter a day keeps your problems away.---Tarka
26) The true innocence of an otter is inversely proportional to how
innocent he/she looks. ---Terminotaur
27) In order to live free and happily, you must sacrifice boredom. For an
Otter this should be no difficult task -- Alpha_X-ray misquoting Richard
Bach.
28) An Otter lives for four things: 1 - To have as much fun as possible. 2 -
To baffle as many as possible. 3 - To try to lick the nose of everyone at
least once. -- Alpha_X-ray.
29) Definition of the species in one word? Otterrific! --- Diesel
30) Too much caffeine is not necessarily a bad thing. -- BrightEyes
31) There is no such thing as too much caffeine. -- BrightEyes
32) Otters obey mustelid physics. This involves a complete disregard for up
and down. - MelSkunk
33) An otter will remain in motion unless a body to wrap around intervenes. -
MelSkunk
34) An otter's force of persuasion equals flexibility x sneakiness x cuteness
/ hunger. Or sometimes x hunger. It depends. - MelSkunk
35) No energy is destroyed in an otter, but used to its fullest potential to a
power of hyperness x otter_cuteness squared / the speed of salmon.
- MelSkunk
36) There are only two kinds of otters. Live playful ones and dead s

I've been back for a day or two now, and it's time for me to write a journal.

To those who I met at RF, I guess there's really only one thing I want to say - thank you.

Thanks for making the last week the best week of my life. Last week will be the week I look back on fondly when I'm old and grey. I'll never forget you guys or the times we've had.

In particular I want to mention a few furries:

For putting up with me as a roomie:

---

 littlemushu
 nikolai-slovackskavitch
 dolphinecho

---

For putting up with me in general:

---

 marfles
 azlanfiretail
 sikkab
 friohusky

---

There's a whole bunch more that I can't put down but I know. You guys are important to me!

One more for the list :3
 serv

Stomping through the woods, some distance from his lair, the otter smashes through underbrush and flattens saplings with blows from his paws. Guided only by anger, he wanders this way and that, leaving a path of destruction behind him in the undergrowth.

As other helpless creatures flee left and right from the otter's fury-fuelled rampage, the otter suddenly stops, mid-punch, and crooks his head upwards.

The otter snuffles left and right, big nose twitching, and stomps up a nearby hill. He pauses, and his ears perk as far off in the distance, he sees the shining lights of the city of Seattle! The hint of a very familiar, fishy scent wafts over the otter's nose, and without further ado he strides with purpose down the hill towards it.

"Rainfurrest!" he says. "I would recognize that smell anywhere - someone at Rainfurrest has my stolen fish...and I shall go and claim it! Woe to those who would dare steal my fish from me...an otter's vengeance descends upon thee!"

The otter paused to gruff at a raccoon, who luckily did not have his fish, before continuing onwards.

And so the otter's quest leads him to the city of Seattle for another exciting adventure...and hopefully his fish!

*plunks himself down, looking stern*

I have come before you today to address a very serious issue which you may have heard regarding the conduct of certain otters.

*gruffs angrily, glaring left and right before continuing*

Settle down now. Now as we all know, otters are respectable, noble, but fearsome creatures. Otter dominance in the dignified arts is undisputed by all - in fact a highly esteemed otter expert (myself) has created many charts and figures proving so.

However a rumor has perked my finely groomed ear, that certain otters may have been indulging themselves in un-otterlike behaviours - such as cavorting around, hugging each other, sliding around on their bellies, and even floating around holding each others' hands.

This cannot abide.

I assure you action will be taken to quell these rumors. Punishment will be swift and gruff. Quite gruff, I assure you.


Also has anyone seen my fish?

*stomps in, and glares about before plunking himself down*
It's my birthday today. And today instead of my usual demand of a fish, I'm going to ask for something very special.

TWO fish. I think I deserve an extra fish because I have been somewhat less angry this year.

Failing that, I will also accept one mate. Only mates skilled at fish obtaining will be accepted. Offers of one fish and half a mate will be gruffed at.

If trickery or chloroform fails, simply show them this note:

WHY YOU SHOULD BE UNI'S OFFICIAL FISH PROVIDER
- He's always smiling and happy
- Trim, athletic build
- Will remove excess fish free of charge
- Tail can be used as a ladder or for crossing short chasms
- Constant mischief means no more boredom

Stomping through the front doors, the otter quickly found himself amongst a throng of wild, rowdy furries! He quickly subdued them with fierce glares and swipes of his mighty tail, before inspecting each one carefully in search of his fish.

Unfortunately none of them had his particular fish, though he did find other ones which he ate up quickly, to prevent similar confusion later of course. When it was clear his fish was nowhere to be found, he stomped off in search of adventure.

The angry otter quickly discovered that furries liked to bounce around in dark rooms with flashy lights and music, and tried it for a while, but was so talented he eventually had to stop and let someone else be the center of attention. There were many delicious things to buy and eat (they weren't even all fish-related), and delicious brews to drink, which the otter liked very much.

Often on the way to do these things the angry otter was ambushed by vicious furries who would attack him by jumping up and wrapping their arms around him! However their attacks were ineffective and a sharp glare would send them on their way.

I'm back home everyone...just unpacking and catching up with everyone again :)
I'll put up new photos, reports, etc. soon!

If you see the angry otter stomping towards you at AC you'd better start running! Unless of course, you come bearing fish.
Gruff gruff gruff

Apologies for not getting around to it until now, but giving mad props to the furry artist  balto!

It seems like nowadays it's pretty hit or miss if you're getting your furry art commissions on time and exactly how you want. In recent years it seems there's a lot of immaturity amongst furry artists out there. IMO there should be mutual respect amongst both parties in the transaction - we both have something the other party wants, so let's at least be respectful and professional with each other.

But who can deliver? I've recently had a great experience with the artist Balto. Check out his FA if you are interested in cartoony furry art.

Upon commissioning Balto I found the following:

- Prompt. When he was slightly delayed he e-mailed me immediately, explaining why he was late, apologizing for his lateness, and providing me with extra swag to make up for it (preliminary sketches, etc.). Throughout the whole process Balto was respectful, professional, and a pleasure to deal with.

- Skilled. Have a look at his FA - if you like cartoony style he does good work - no cutting corners or tracing, he works for your money.

- Humble. At no point in our transaction did I feel that he viewed himself as superior or that he was doing me a favour by taking my commission. He was always honest, friendly, and prompt. He asked for my opinion throughout the commission process, and took my input and suggestions and added them to the commission without complaint.

I'd like to add at this point that this is simply my honest opinion. Balto has not provided me with any incentives in any way to post this journal. I simply would like to see good honest work rewarded. So if you are puzzling over who to choose as a furry artist for your commission, I reccomend Balto for promptness, professionalism, and a pleasant transaction all around.

So I showed up for my routine retainer enlargement appointment today, ready to be in and out of there in 15.

The doctor, a wizened old Asian guy, ushered me in, and upon examining my progress from the previous month, told me suddenly, "I don't think we are making the progress we're after. The enlargement you were seeing over the past few months has slowed down considerably. We have to be realistic here...maybe I can't help you. We might have to remove some teeth, or proceed with a surgical enlargement of your jaw."
Unhappy with that, I reluctantly told him I was prepared to do whatever had to be done to achieve the final result I was after.
He paused and thought for a moment, rubbing his chin, and nodded.
"Do you trust me?" he said. "On a scale from 1 to 10, I need at least a 7 or an 8 from you."
Now this dude is supposed to be the best guy in western Canada, so I assured him he was at the very least an 8 or 9 on my trust scale.

"Okay let's put in the brackets now" he said, which surprised me, as I wasn't supposed to have them in for a good 6 months or so.
Blindly trusting him, I nodded and he and his assistant started gluing metal brackets to my teeth, curing the glue with some sort of UV light that made my teeth feel like they were burning. When he was done, I relaxed, thinking we were done, but I was wrong.
"Hold on," he said, and he picked up something that looked like a dremel, shoving it into my mouth. The assistant pushed my tongue back with a metal tongue depressor, cranking open my mouth with her hands.
"I just have to slim down your teeth FYI" he said, and turned on the dremel, wedging it between my teeth.

Now what did it feel like? Well, it felt just as you'd imagine flossing with an electric drill would. The agony was incredible - it was like someone jabbing knives into my gums and scraping around in there.
While this was happening I was treated to the sight of bits of my teeth flying out of my mouth and bouncing off his forehead. Each time the dremel made it up to the gumline, for a split second it would start trimming down my gums, which felt fantastic and added a neat red tinge to the spray of tooth fragments.
Halfway through the dremel stopped, and the dentist asked the assistant to go get him another blade, because it was all worn out. The assistant informed him that they had run out, and that was the last one they had. They spent the next few minutes bickering over me over who had forgotten to order a new set of blades, and the dentist eventually switched to a bit half the size as before and continued about twice as slowly.
When he was finished I was covered in sweat, blood, and tooth fragments and I had ripped out the front of the right armrest of the dentist chair.

Soon after it was time to thread that wire through the front of my brackets, which went swimmingly until about halfway through.
The dentist stopped, looked at me, and said something horrible.

"Now you're going to feel a lot of pressure and pain, and there's nothing I can do about it. So hold onto something."

And he was right.

And that's what I spent $4K on today.

I remember, way back when I was 12,13,14, around then life was not so good. Everything that could fall apart had fallen apart, and even some things that couldn't had.

I remember those days as nothing but a jumble of monotony, and fear, and hopelessness. But I did have one little escape route away from it all, and it was reading. Every weekend I'd wake up early and walk 2 hours to the nearest public library, and trudge home at 10 PM to get home by midnight, and more often than not walk all the way back there the day after too.

What I did there all day is read - eventually all the librarians knew me by name. I got my picture (along with my brother) put up on a small billboard advertising the library, wish I had kept a photo of that! I'd mostly hang out in the young adult section, but on occasion I'd wander over to science fiction. On one of these jaunts I saw a book cover with ferrets and badgers walking around holding spears and swords - I was intrigued and took it back to a reading cubicle with me.

It was one of the first times I remembered I didn't finish a book quickly. I savoured every page, read sentences again and again. I flipped back and forth to link sections together in my mind, and I got to know the characters. The book was Salamandastron, and I'll never forget how that book made me feel.

The book to me was kind of like looking at faraway places in photos for the first time. It opened up my little world and made me want more out of life. It made me happy and gave me hope.

After that I went back to the library almost every day. I'd get out of school and run there, scouring the library for more books in the series. Each one I'd read, bit by bit, and when I finished I'd find the book least recent in my memory and read it again. And every time I re-read a book I'd find something new I missed; a detail or a name to help cement the story in my imagination.

I began saving, scrounging, begging. I'd collect cans and drop them off at the local Safeway for the pocket change, and find and return shopping carts for the $.25 they sometimes held. After a couple months of this I'd collected enough money to buy Redwall for myself at a local bookstore. After that I kept saving, penny by painful penny, and after about a year I had the entire set (It was only seven books at the time).

I remember hiding them in the corner behind the leg of my bed, and later between the mattress and my bedsprings, which gouged the covers up. I read and re-read those books until the edges of the pages turned black and the corners became dog-eared and torn. Redwall was the only thing I took with me when I left to live in foster homes, and I remember later on, starving and alone, I would just lie in bed and just read the series for hours to pass the time. Those books survived being burned, soaked in water, having pages torn out - and I survived too.

The books changed my life in other ways too - while I don't want to go into too much detail, later in life I did some regretful things, and what stopped me was the thought one day "Would Redwall approve of what I was doing?" Silly I know, but it worked for me. After that I put my efforts into hard work, going to school, the whole deal.


The author of the series, Brian Jacques died today - he will be mourned. I hope he is out there, past the gates of Dark Forest.

When I'm not busy being grumpy or smashing things, I run and help administrate a furry forum for British Columbia, Canada:

www.bcfurries.com

If you find yourself in the area please feel free to sign up; at the time of this posting we have 662! members. If you're from elsewhere, you're still welcome to sign up, but I'm sure you would find little of interest unless you already know a lot of folks from the area.

A red mist trickles across the otter's eyeballs; his nose scrunches up in a fearsome glower. He trundles to his feet, whiskers twitching, and looks around the forest clearing accusingly - but there is noone around to glare at. Eventually the otter crosses his arms, and begins pacing...looking angrier and angrier by the second.

He stops for a moment, rage welling, then draws his foot back, bringing it forwards quickly to kick the heads off of a clump of daisies. A curious squirrel skitters away as the flowers land near it.

The otter snorts, hackles raised, and stomps around the clearing. The echoes of his feet thumping into the ground reverberate throughout the forest, punctuated by short periods of ruffling as the otter stops to dig through random spots in the undergrowth, searching. As each attempt turns up nothing the otter's scowl becomes fiercer and fiercer.

As the otter's fury eventually reaches a crescendo, his frantic search redoubles in effort...ripping up the rich green turf, pulling up bushes and undergrowth. The otter's rampage is finally stopped when a strong oak proves too deeply rooted to be pulled out of the ground. The squirrel watches but continues to hide.

Snorting at the immovable tree, the otter delivers a mighty punch to the trunk, showering himself in leaves and acorns. He pauses, blinking, then stomps back into the centre of the clearing, a deep frown on his face.

He flops down to think for a little while, anger oozing back into his features as he slowly works himself back up into a fury, muscles tensing in his jaw as he grinds his teeth...almost foaming at the mouth in anger! He reaches out and takes a double pawful of grass, ripping it out and tossing it into the wind.

Finally, at a total loss, he jumps to his feet, and throws his arms up in the air, roaring ferociously!

"WHO STOLE MY FISH?!"