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[tc1]

A man was driving through west Texas one spring evening. The road was
>deserted and he had not seen a soul for what seemed like hours.
>Suddenly his car started to cough and splutter and the engine slowly died,
>leaving him sitting on the side of the road in total isolation. He popped
>the hood and looked to see if there was anything that he could do to get it
>going again.
>Unfortunately, he had a limited knowledge of cars, so all he could do was
>look at the engine and feel despondent.
>As he stood looking at the gradually fading light of his flashlight, he
>cursed that he had not put in new batteries.
>Suddenly, through the inky shadows, came a deep voice, "It's your fuel
>pump."
>The man raised up quickly, striking his head on the underside of the hood.
>"Who said that?" he called out.
>There were two horses, a white one and a black one, standing in the fenced
>field alongside the road. The man was amazed when the white horse repeated,
>"It's your fuel pump. Tap it with your flashlight and try it again."
>Confused, the man tapped the fuel pump with his flashlight, turned the key
>and sure enough, the engine roared to life. He muttered a short thanks to
>the horse and screeched away.
>When he reached the next town, he ran into the local bar.
>"Gimme a large whiskey, please!" he said.
>A rancher sitting at the bar looked at the man's ashen face and asked,
>"What's wrong, man? You look like you've seen a ghost."
>"It's unbelievable," the man said and recalled the whole tale to the
>rancher.
>The rancher took a sip of his beer and looked thoughtful. "A horse, you
>say?
>Was it by any chance a white horse?"
>The man replied to the affirmative. "Yes, it was! Am I crazy?"
>"No, you ain't crazy. In fact, you're lucky," said the rancher, "because
>that black horse don't know **** about cars."
>