Upon a plain stone pedestal before the closed mine shaft stood a solitary bronze figure. Much tinier than other memorials of its kind, the figure is a small, scruffy fluffy pony smiling up at all who pass by, holding up a lantern with a big smile and an eternally wagging tail.
Aging miners who rememberd John in life bring their grandchildren here for picnics, to scamper among the wildflowers that sprang up when the mine closed and pay homage to the smallest and most unlikely of heroes.
See how his little hardhat, his muzzle, his back and his little hoof booties have been touched so often by human hands that the tarnish never greened with age? Even in death, the goodest boy gets so many head pats. Below him reads a plaque:
Tread lightly, for here sleeps
Who sacrificed himself to save the lives of his friends.
@Ace bravo, my dude. really great story.
and yes, i did give him a filet o fish.
