The Pit Pony’s Prayer

I read this and thought of my father down in the mines as a boy when he was given a pony to help him do his job
To thee my master.
Feed me with food clear of dust, properly mixed with bran and rolled oats, so that I can digest my food, also water and care for me.
When the day’s work is done, provide me with shelter, a clean bed and a stall wide enough for me to lie down in comfort.
Talk to me
Your voice often means as much as the rein’s.
Pet me sometime, that I may serve you more gladly, and learn to love you.
Do not jerk the reins and do not whip me going up hill.
Never strike me, beat or kick me when I do not understand what you mean, but give me a chance to understand you.
Watch me and if I fail to do your bidding, see if something is wrong with my harness or feet.
Examine my teeth when I do not eat, I may have an ulcerated tooth, and that you know is very painful.
Do not tie my head in an un-natural position, or take away my best defence against flies and mosquitoes by cutting off my tail.
Finally master, when my useful strength is gone, do not turn me out to starve or freeze, or sell me to some cruel owner to be slowly tortured and starved to death.
But do thou master take my life, in the kindest way and your god will reward you here and hereafter.
You may not consider me irrelevant if I ask in the name of him who was born in a stable.


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