I wear fur.
I wear it proudly, and sensibly, because the arctic fox has perfected the art of staying warm at 60 below, and no human has even come close to finding an ear covering that will stave off frostbite and not weight 700 lbs, crack in the cold or depend on sweatshops and the release of toxic gases in manufacturing. I know how my arctic fox met his furry demise and I know that he died a helluva lot more humanely than my cat, eaten by one of his fellow charismatic foxes, did.
I find it hypocritical and short-sighted when people claim their moral superiority by loudly declaring they won't wear fur, but you look down and find they are wearing leather shoes, and have leather furniture and a fashionable leather purse and they're driving their environmentally unfriendly SUV a block to return a DVD to the movie store and they're tossing out seven pounds of unnecessary plastic wrapping from around their processed god-knows-what-kind-of-meat microwave meal.
I am at the top of the food chain. I have opposable thumbs, a sense of right versus wrong that overcomes my primal instincts to eliminate dumb people from the gene pool, and tools without which my skinny frail body is no match for a snarling predator. I find no shame in subsisting off of lower forms of life. And yes, I very definitely think I am a higher form of life.
Ya know, this is probably why I never really *got* that whole furry/anthro thing.