My reaction to this cat is one of sincere, visceral discomfort. This poor little kitty, she seems happy, she seems fine, but... I find her to be a little horrific!
OH MY GOD. First and foremost, understand that the cat Matilda is well-cared for and in no pain. She just comes from a litter that has a unique genetic disorder. I have nothing but sympathy for the owners who have doted upon their little freak when veterinary care can be so expensive. You can donate to help with Matilda’s health care if you are so inclined.
Maybe it’s because I used to be afraid that grey aliens would abduct me when I was kid. Maybe it’s because her eyes look so vulnerable and sensitive that I can vicariously feel every speck of dust and hair that must incessantly bother her, those blank cloudy eyes like puddles on asphalt with drips of rainbowing oil. Whatever the reason, this cat really scratches something in my brainstem that makes me recoil.
I don’t think Matilda will be the next Grumpy or Lil’ Bub—she’s just too far out on the edge of the freak kingdom—but I wish her well.