Chapter 6

6 The Truth About Dave Pigeon 'Of course he is!' Mickey shook his head. 'But he's your son!' 'And that's exactly why he can't be a racing pigeon.' Mickey leaned in. He came up so close to my earhole I could feel his beak in my feathers. 'I'm not a racing pigeon.' There was silence. 'Of course you are!' I burst out laughing, spitting over the floor. 'You're the legendary racing pigeon, Mickey Lightning.'

In a small voice, he said, 'I'm a utility pigeon. Just like Dave's mother. And just like Dave. We aren't racing pigeons. We're built to taste good.' 'A utility pigeon?' I said. 'I guess that would explain why cats like to eat Dave. But how on pigeon's earth did you manage to become the best racing pigeon known to pigeonkind?' 'I trained, son,' Mickey said. 'I wanted to be more than just a pigeon in a pie, so I trained for years and years until I was good enough. He shrugged as if there was nothing to it. I felt my heart plummet to my claws and right through the floor. 'We don't have years and years, Mickey! Dave is racing

the day after tomorrow. 'I know!' 'We have to tell him.' 'NO!' Mickey said, grabbing me. 'The only thing getting him through is that he thinks he is a racing pigeon.' The idea of lying to Dave made me feel sick to my stomach. He was my best friend. 'His wing is badly damaged. He's got a new one but the Vet Man thinks he shouldn't be racing with it any time soon.' 'Since when did Humans know more about feathers than pigeons?' Mickey scoffed. Dave and Mickey were starting to sound more alike than ever. 'I know this is hard,' Mickey continued.

'I will try my very best to get him into shape before the race but you know him. If we tell him this now he will give up before he even starts.' 'If we tell him, we can call off this silly race before he humiliates himself.' Mickey shook his head. 'I know that parrot and he's vicious. He will destroy you all if you call off the race.' 'Are you two coming?' Jet yelped from the kitchen. 'Dave's found a stash of toffee biscuits and he's eating them all.' 'That's not true,' Dave hooted, poking his head out around the corner. His beak was covered in biscuit crumbs and goo. 'They're chocolate biscuits.'

'We're coming,' Mickey squawked back. He turned to me, grabbing my wings. 'Don't tell anyone the truth about Dave.' Torn between wanting to protect my friend and not wanting to lie to him, I made a decision. 'Fine. But you'd better not let Dave down.' 'Pigeon's Promise,' Mickey said. 'Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a peanut in my eye.'

That night we feasted with Mickey, Jet, Gary, Fluffle the iguana and Cricket-Ball Face the rabbit. Gary was beside himself to be in the same room as the Mickey Lightning, let alone sharing dinner with him. Everyone laughed and danced and binged on biscuits and when darkness fell,