The second story of the Herr Fluffermeister stories.
I do not own Doctor Who. I do pay for all of Doc's needs, so I suppose you could say that I do own him (I think he would beg to differ though)

"I'm hungry!" whined Herr Fluffermeister, aka Doc, and he piteously plopped down in front of Amy. Large brown eyes rolled up to look at her.

Amy Pond blinked. She was still getting used to the intelligent rabbit that had joined the crew of the TARDIS. Sometimes, he acted exactly how one would expect a sentient, fairly intelligent creature to behave. Other times, he acted just as he looked: a pet rabbit. The Doctor had explained that was just how his kind was, that it was a survival technique. It still took some getting used to.

Amy glanced at Doc's small trough. He was not big enough to use the food-making machine in the kitchen, and the Doctor had not yet found a stool for him to sit on. So they made the trough and made sure to keep it full of hay, Doc's preferred food. The trough was full.

"Doc, the trough is full."

"I know."

"So why don't you eat the hay?"

"I don't want it!" Amy knew that Doc was not the one making the whining noises. There was a translator converting his motions into words. So why did it have to be so annoying sounding?

She took a deep breath. The Doctor was putting together a shelf for Doc to sit on as they spoke. Until then, she could handle this. "Okay," she said, walking over to the food-making machine. "What do you want?"

"Hay," the rabbit replied. He scrambled to his feet and hopped over to the machine, perching on his hind legs expectantly.

"But… Doc… you have hay." Amy pointed at his trough, confused.

"I don't want THAT hay. I want NEW hay!" Doc explained as though it should be perfectly obvious.

Amy's eye twitched in annoyance. She had been in the middle of a very intense scene in a very interesting book when Doc interrupted. "What is wrong with that hay?" she asked between clenched teeth.

"It's not new," he said, as if explaining to a child. Amy took another deep breath and clenched her hands into fists. She was not allowed to turn her friends (though at this moment, she was considering redefining their relationship…) into hasenpfeffer, no matter how annoying they were at the moment. Doc continued to stare at her expectantly, unaware that he might be in danger.

The moment was broken by an angry shout: "Fluffermeister! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SONIC SCREWDRIVER?!"

Doc looked at the doorway and looked back at Amy. "If the Doctor asks, those chew marks were always on the screwdriver," he said and then bounded out the door as fast as possible, hay forgotten.

Perhaps Doc is spoiled, but he does this to me ALL THE TIME! What's worse, he'll pull his food out of his dish and dump it on the floor. The moment it touches the bottom of his cage, he refuses to touch it ever again. Luckily, he does not chew on my stuff (except my textbooks and notebooks. God knows why he likes chewing on only the notebooks with stuff written in them as opposed to the empty ones or ones I don't need anymore).

Every review you leave equals something yummy for Doc to eat!