Sally has always been a bit diffident. Like many cats (or people for that matter), she prefers to take life on her own terms. Unlike most people, she isn't doing so well at concealing her disappointment at the way life has turned out. Lots of us know that we are really royalty, accidentally placed with the wrong parents. Here we are in the workaday world when we should be living in a castle somewhere. We'd have beautiful clothes, servants, 5,000 pairs of shoes. If only someone hadn't broken the magic wand… Yet, we carry on.
Sally is in this "Kitty-Porn" pose because she's zonked out at the moment. She's always had to be sedated for a proper exam — just can't stand me or the stress of being here or the carrier, or all of the above. She really is a beautiful cat, though not always this cooperative. Better living through chemistry. We can't keep her sedated the rest of her life, though [no matter what the makers of Prozac, Zoloft, Cymbalta, Paxil, etc. say].
She did great when it was just Mom and Dad. When sister came along, that wasn't too bad. Now we have Mom, Dad, seven-years-old sis, and four-years-old brother, and one-year-old brother. Things have just gotten too loud, too rambunctious, too confusing. At night, when all is calm, she is her old self, interacting affectionately in the quiet of the bedroom.
In the daytime, she may growl or bite if approached too closely. If there's too much random action between her and the litter-box, she might just make an alternative toilet arrangement (maybe once a month).
She needs a quiet home with fewer people. I've got a call in to the behavior specialists, but I'm not too optimistic that we'll find the feline equivalent of the ruby slippers. If you can think of the perfect place for Sally, drop me a line.