The furry fandom never ceases to amaze me, even in times of loss and mourning.
Anybody even slightly involved in furry Twitter recently will know of a older bloke called Dogbomb. He had ALS, and ended his life only hours ago whilst the disease couldn't worsen the quality of it.
His story has gone down a treat: he lived his life to the fucking fullest and didn't give a shit about having ALS. He spread positivity and happiness whilst laughing in death's face, donated his body to a medical school, and took part in a marathon. Depressingly, his contagious ways only got the love they deserved when he was on his way to play his golden harp, with fanart and animations flooding in daily.
Furfags are already using Dogbomb's legacy and death as a chance to grant themselves a free pat on the back and bring up the whole "See guys, we're not so bad afterall!" argument all over again, previously at it highest point during the zoosadism leaks. This example, in a group chat I lurk in, really ground my gears.
"The fandom needed people like him." "We lost one of our best"
Yes, my sweet Prince, I'm sure only you guys needed him, not his wife and family; only you and your fetish. I'm sure his children didn't lose a father, or his parents a son: only the furry fandom truly lost somebody.
Rate me mad on the internet or powerlevel, but this one has really gotten me livid.