The Cowboy, the Princess, and the Russian

The cowboy has been around—Paris, Avignon, Casablanca, Bamako, Tombouctou.…

He’s also met some “interesting” people on home ground, Fort Edmonton Historical Park.

Ah, shucks, Ma'am.

Ah, shucks, Ma’am.

Yes, that’s Princess Sophie in the picture. She and Prince Edward came to Canada shortly after they were married and the cowboy had a chance to meet and entertain them.

“Say, Prince,” the cowboy growls, knowing that Prince Edward is a history buff. “Did you happen to bring that money Queen Victoria has been promising us?”

“Well, I don’t have the cash,” the Prince says. “Would a cheque do?”

“I don’t reckon I know what a cheque is, but if Uncle Garth says it’s okay….”

Uncle Garth plays along and a deal is struck.

Then it’s the delegation from Russia—big burly men, managers of airports in Siberia. One of them wraps his arms around the cowboy, lifts him off the ground, shakes him up and down a few times, plants him back on the ground and says, “You cowboy, da? You real cowboy?”

“Da,” says the cowboy as he straightens his hat.

The Russians press their business cards on him. “You come Russia. We drink wodka, da?”

“Da,” says the cowboy sensing this is not the time to say he doesn’t like vodka.


4 comments on “The Cowboy, the Princess, and the Russian

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