Chapter 16

16 The Final Mile 'By Hamster Paws!' Jet howled, shocked. 'I think Dave might win this.' My heart banged away at a million miles an hour. Up ahead both Opprobrious Vastanavius the Parrot and Dave were racing straight for Pawsville. Mickey was squawking encouragement to Dave, who seemed to have found a new surge of wing- power. Dave had closed the distance between him and the parrot to just eight beaks.

Five beaks. Four beaks. Thousands of birds and pets now lined the streets screeching and crowing for both racers. Opprobrious Vastanavius the Parrot looked back over his shoulder. As he realised Dave was right behind I could see the parrot panic for the first time. He slowed down for a millisecond as Dave rose up beside him. And then he kicked him. 'Dave!' I screeched. Dave veered off course and his new wing caught the TV aerial on a nearby house. The harness stretched as its stitches popped out one by one. Dave dangled from the metal,

shrieking for help. 'HELP!' I flew hard, dropping towards my friend. As I pulled up close, the harness ripped against the metal and Dave plunged towards the ground. 'HELP!' I dived at him and clutched at his head with my feet. As my claws gripped his fuzzy head feathers, I slowed, flapping us both down to the ground, where Jet met us. 'Oh, Dave,' Jet said. 'You almost did it.' 'It's not over,' Dave said, through gritted beak.

He pulled off the last of the shredded feathers on the harness and started running towards Pawsville. Up ahead Opprobrious Vastanavius the Parrot hadn't yet made it to the finish line. The crowd, having seen the parrot's crafty move in the sky, now cheered for one name and one name alone: DAVE. 'COME ON, DAVE,' I screamed, my throat hurting from cheering for my friend. Dave was almost at Pawsville. As he mounted the kerb, ready to hit the finish line, a dark shadow of a bird swooped over him and crossed the line first. Opprobrious Vastanavius the Parrot had won. Dave crossed the line a moment after.

He dropped to the pavement. His broken prosthetic wing and strands of leather harness now hung featherless, dangling off his body. He let out a tiny coo of 'need biscuits urgently' before closing his eyes and rolling on to his tummy. Opprobrious Vastanavius the Parrot peacocked across the street and back again, punching the air with fisted wings.

That's when I heard it. 'Dave! Dave! Dave! Dave!' The crowd was not cheering for the winner. They were cheering for Dave. 'Dave!' I said, shoving my friend. 'Listen!' 'Dave! Dave! Dave! Dave!' He sat up. 'Dave, they're cheering for you,' I said, pulling him up to his feet. 'But I lost.' 'You might not have won the race, son.' Mickey said, holding Dave up at his side. 'But listen to the crowd. You're their winner.' Opprobrious Vastanavius the Parrot screeched at the crowd. 'Why are you