Everyday Public Trans Furry Visibility
Hi my name is Dogteeth and I have boobs! Usually when I'm at Firehouse Subs or Jersey Mike's Subs or Jimmy John's or Subway or any of the many other different kinds of places I visit each day, the people behind the counter still call me "sir" most of the time. And like, sometimes I'm wearing pants, and other stuff that is male-coded. But then other times, when I'm there in a literal skirt and arm warmers and a bunch of other miscellaneous transfem drip, and they still call me "sir," I'm just like, "You've LITERALLY never talked with a trans person before, huh? Wow I am necessary. It is important for the health of this community that you see my trans ass walk into this sandwich store or other kind of location every single week until I seem normal to you. I am doing this for the good of the next trans person who has to deal with you. You get to learn that we exist."
Like, even if I've told them my name (which they ask for at Firehouse and probably at like the bank if you go into one of those too I assume), they will still call out "order for (girl name)" when my sandwich is done, and then give me a dirty look and say "here you go SIR" when I'm the one who comes up to the counter to get the food that I bought. And I'm like, "WOW you suck, but at least I get to turn this sandwich into boobs."
Besides being visibly trans, I also like to make myself publicly visible as a furry. Because, it's kinda as close as I know how to get, to being publicly visible as a zoosexual? Like, I think 99% of people don't really know the difference anyways. And the goal is destigmatization. Helping people see any of my queer cliques as more mundane, approachable, non-scary. It's easy for mean news channels to talk about how furries are cringe and dangerous, as a way of stirring up hate and making bigot-y us-vs-them stuff seem normal and acceptable. But I think it really takes a lot of pressure out of the equation if you regularly actually see me, a furry, happily walking within a .5 mile radius of any given sandwich store in your city.
Like, sure, maybe I do still seem weird to someone, the FIRST TIME they see this shockingly cute 'dude' walking into Jersey Mike's with a tail and a collar on. But, that's the idea: it's getting over that "first time." It's really hard for it to keep being weird that someone with a tail and a collar on is walking into Jersey Mike's again when you see them every day. And, when those mean news channels keep saying mean things about furries, I like to think that some percentage of viewers who have seen me be a regular presence in the community are like, "I mean, the furry I see around here is clumsy and drops things on the floor all the time, but that's kinda the worst I could say about them. They're always really polite and patient, or sometimes funny even. Also really cute ngl."
I also really like the idea that other trans people and furries and zoosexuals are seeing me and feeling happy about there being a kindred spirit in their vicinity. It's like I'm drawing agro for all of my fellow queers, and I think some of them appreciate it, in some fun way. (That's a gamer reference, if you didn't understand what "drawing agro" meant in the last sentence, basically it just means that other people can feel like I'm supporting them on Team Queer and am willing to be the one who takes a beating for all of us if it came to it; But, also we're just in a Subway, so hopefully 15 people don't literally actually start attacking me all at once, hopefully this all just remains a metaphorical thing!)
I wear my tail with pride, and I like the way that it wags when I sway back and forth, waiting next in line to share what my order is. ...Okay it's always a veggie sub, literally every single time; this animal that's wandered into this sandwich store again is still an herbivore, after all.
I think of the love I've shared with a dog, all of the nights I battled with insomnia but was finally able to get myself to sleep snuggling up into his furry chest as he held me so patiently. All of the kisses I shared with a fuzzy muzzle, and noticed a tail wagging behind my kissing buddy. And, in the years since then, all of the fellow dog kissers I've hugged, and knew, from that past experience, that their tails were wagging behind them as well, even if they didn't literally have one clipped onto the back of their pants at the time--although hey, sometimes they actually did.
Why would I ever be ashamed of all that?
This isn't really a call to action. You don't have to go out and wear a tail and be trans. Me or someone like me will be doing it for ya!
Article written by Dogteeth (November 2025)
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