Believe it or not, there’s actually a grain of truth in this. Just a grain, though.
The Visitor, by Gordon Lawrie
Around three o’clock, Greta was rather surprised to find a large horse outside on her front doorstep. She took a moment to compose herself.
“Good afternoon,” she said politely. “Can I help you?”
“Nay,” said the horse.
“Are you collecting for charity, perchance?”
“Selling something? Looking for a job?” Greta asked, patiently.
“Nay,” the horse said again.
“Then it appears I can’t help you,” said Greta, starting to close the door.
The horse deposited a significant quantity of manure on the path.
“My apologies,” it said. “I needed to use your toilet but I was too embarrassed to ask.”