Yes, I know you don't get to have a panther, and I don't either (Elizabeth doesn't count, despite her high opinion of herself). But . . . isn't this glorious? For a few seconds in my dreams I was a wild creature on an even wilder beast, galloping though a golden world, my blood up for the hunt. This is a work from 1855 by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825-1905). (Say boo-guh-roe.) He was a French academic painter particularly known for the lush, pale beauty of the female forms he worked into his genre and mythological paintings. You've probably seen quite a few of them, actually - you might meet some old friends in the Wikipedia entry on him.
By the way, don't you find it interesting that he is clearly well versed in female anatomy, but winging it when it comes to the panther? I've just seen one (at the Mirage's Secret Garden, so I was very close to it!) and I guarantee you the cat, though compact, is not built anything like this.