Eight "per", or 16 a pair

That's how they divide "prairie oysters" for eating.  Anyone know what a "prairie oyster" is?  Yes, correct.  They are the testicles of a bull.  Had my first taste last evening at a BBQ at The Ranchmen's Club, where we dined before heading off to The Stampede.  The spread was unbelievable.  Everything was labelled and when I saw "prairie oysters", I knew what they were because my son-in-law had been involved with that, ahem, "operation" last Spring during branding time at the ranch of a friend.  "They were just lying around on the ground everywhere, Mum," said my daughter.  "Sometimes they would just throw them on the fire and people would eat them."

The teenaged grandson of a tablemate was ahead of us in line and I asked him what "that" dish was.  "Oysters", he said helpfully.  "Thanks," I replied.  Back at the table, as he was wolfing down the "prairie" variety, I said, "Do you know what those really are?"  "Yeah, curry oysters."  "No, they are bull testicles."  As fast as you could say "splat", they were all over his plate.  "Whaaaaaat??!!!"  He was dumbfounded.  I guess it's pretty difficult for a man to wrap his brain around eating testicles.  To me, they tasted exactly like kidneys and were delicious.  To the kid's credit, he decided to initiate himself and finished every last one.  Good on him.

I said to the chef, "They seem pretty small for bull testicles?"  He said, "Eight per side and 16 a pair."  I nearly died laughing.  That's how they cut them up for cooking.  Perfect.

Then it was off to The Stampede.  We were seated in the grandstand next to two women on my right and a middle-aged man on my left.  Friendly beyond the beyond, the women immediately took us under their collective wing and instructed us on how to bet on "the chucks".  Wendy even bought me a beer.  The chuckwagon races are amazing.  The horses are all thoroughbreds which, for one reason or another, can no longer compete in individual races.  They are bought by the chuckwagon(er-guys) and given a new lease on life for many years.  Without this event, they would be dog food or glue.  Contrary to what the freakish and deluded "animal rights" people claim, these horses are pampered and very happy. 

But back to the grandstand.  Dee told me I would have the fouth entry no one else wanted.  Guess what?  My entries won five out of nine heats.  Not that we were betting with money, just for the hell of it.  Everyone was slightly "over-refreshed" and I assumed Dee was a party girl.  No such thing.  Dee was a professional geological engineer.  Forgive me darling, I was not in "Stampede" mode.  She was absolutely awesome, so was Wendy.

The guy to my left was "Ole", a Danish-born plumber and long-time Calgary resident.  He talked to me as if we had been friends forever.  At one point, chatting about something or other, he said, "Geez, I don't remember that, how old do you think I am?"  I guessed 55.  "58," he said.  Then I said, "How old do you think I am?"  "55."  Man, he made my day.  You know that show, "How to Look 10 Years Younger"?  that was me last night.  Got a 10-year break.

The Stampede is amazing!