Mittens Has Class

Prologue

               The large, overcomplicated, phone on Judge Douglas Hillart's buzzed audibly with two long drones. Reaching over without looking, he pressed the speaker button. "Yes?"

"The...um...young lady, is here to see you, your honor." Came the voice of Thomas, his administrative assistant. He could imagine what the young man was thinking, assuming she was still wearing the same wild costume she had on in the courtroom. By the slight touch of amusement in Thomas' voice, Hillart figured that she likely still was.

He paused a moment, preparing himself. "Send her in, please." He said finally, inhaling a deep breath.

She entered his office a moment later, pausing after she closed the door to look around in wonder. His office was fairly roomy and lush, with beautiful black oak furnishings and shelves, deep midnight blue carpeting, and white cedar paneled walls. The shelves were mostly filled by well-organized legal jurisprudence, procedure and law guides, collected editions of various legal journals, and a small section with various useful books, like a dictionary, thesaurus, and Bartlett's Familiar Quotations.

"Please have a seat, Miss Wilson." He said, getting her attention and directing her to a chair in front of his large desk.

The young woman was wearing a perfectly normal short-sleeved white blouse and black knee-length shirt, but the rest of her attire was about as unusual as one ever saw in a courtroom. Fluffy black cat ears were perched on her head, a long black tail was attached to the back of the skirt, and her hands and feet had large stuffed paws on them. Fuzzy arm and leg warmers seemed to help the large padded things appear to blend into her limbs.

He was almost surprised that she hadn't drawn whiskers on her face as well. However, she was otherwise normally made up, with only minimal make-up. However, she seemed to exude a feline quality with how she moved and acted. It was almost impressive how naturally she seemed to project it.

"This is a really great office." She gushed brightly, taking another look around as she took up the dark leather chair. "Did you design it yourself?"

Hillart glanced around at the space. "Actually, my sister did. At least, the general scheme and layout. Some of the little knick-knacks are my own personal touches, but I admit, she has a great eye and I rather like it myself."

She looked at him with a wide grin. "Well, considering the teddy bear dressed as judge over there, I'd say that bodes well for me." She giggled. "Love his sunglasses, by the way. Really cool."

He looked over at the stuffed toy proudly. "Thank you, Miss Wilson." His sister had given it to him when he'd first graduated law school, his goal always to make it to the role of judge. She was one of the only ones who'd really supported him, their parents of the mindset that the whole world would be set against him becoming any sort of figure of authority.

However, he quickly pulled himself away from the straying thoughts and back to the matter at hand. "Now, as I told you in the courtroom, I have concerns about signing off on this change of name you want to make." He began as he turned back to her, clasping his fingers together on the desk in front of him. "While it doesn't directly conflict with the usual restrictions, I would hope you can understand why I have my reservations."

"I'm not crazy." She replied matter-of-factly. "If that's what you are worried about. I know it's a tad weird, I promise that I can see why you might think I'm not of sound mind. Still, I just want to be identified, officially, as what I emotionally identify as: a cat."