Pipe story #6 (I think).

Allow me to tell you about the physical harm pipe smoking does to the human body. I’ll admit I’m no doctor - far from it. Nor did I stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night. What I do have, is the testament my body tells of the damage done by pipe smoking. Wait, I may be presenting this poorly. This is no medical dissertation on the dangers of tobacco. It would more closely resemble a story one my tell to his doctor upon an unexpected visit to his place of business.

I’ll set the stage. About a year ago, I was celebrating the cessation of a rather long rainy spell by burning a bowl on our back steps late at night. I was sharing this time with my faithful dog, who enjoys exploring the back yard (and trying to eat my dumped ash and dottle!). She is both inquisitive and protective, so she perks up and utters a short “gruff” at each intruding sound.

As I was deeply pondering the meaning of the universe, or wondering how to avoid burns while tamping with my finger (who can remember, really), my dog perked up and let out a low growl toward the front of the house. We sometimes have neighborhood kids cut through our backyard, so I stood up to make sure she didn’t go after some unsuspecting night rambler. Look as hard as I might, I saw no one. Yet the dog’s hackles were now up, and I could tell she was about to escalate things. Thankfully, she is obedient and sat on my command while I went to explore.

As I rounded the corner of our house, I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye, over by our fence. Perhaps someone had ducked around the other side or perhaps it was our neighbor walking along the edge of their yard. As I focused on the movement, I realized what I was seeing was a huge possum walking along the top of our fence. I’ve dealt with my fair share of possums. They are a pest in our area, and I had no problem dispatching another one. He was moving pretty quick, though, and I didn’t want him to get away. A quick survey of this portion of the yard only revealed a long branch that the boys had been playing with that afternoon. This branch was about ten feet long, and was of significant thickness.

I quickly picked up the branch, clenching my pipe in my teeth, and raised it over my head. The plan was to bring the end of the branch crashing down on the possum with as much power as I could muster. Just crush him, right there on top of the fence! I have a pretty good feel for such “tools of opportunity,” and I was confident this would go off without a hitch.

I mustered up my strength, and snapped the limb forward as hard as I could. Well, snapped is right. The massive amount of torque produced by my thick, powerful arms literally snapped the branch right over my head.

At this moment, my brain slowed things down and contemplated all the parts currently in motion. I had a possum in front of me, a dog behind me, part of a branch above me, and a much-shorter-than-expected branch arcing down in front of me. As this series of conditions processed, I also discovered the wet ground had relinquished its grasp on my feet. This, of course, sparked a whole new series of calculations in that frozen moment. As these instantaneous calculations completed, I distinctly remembered thinking, “Well, here we go!”

As time returned to normal speed, the following events unfolded.
My body quickly became parallel to the ground, and then fell to meet it.
The branch in my hand continued its path, and connected with my shin.
The now-free portion of the branch obeyed gravity’s call, and met my face at the end of it’s journey.
The possum, who I can only assume thought the most ferocious beast on earth was preparing to attack, stopped and snarled at me.
This was too much for my until-now obedient dog to handle, and she plowed right over me (somehow expertly trampling on my neck and then my groin) on her way to drive off the possum.

“What about the pipe?”, you may ask. Don’t worry. It remained unscathed. I lost grasp of it somewhere in the air, releasing it to it’s own recognizance. Not wanting to be far from it’s beloved caretaker, the pipe aimed for home. Sometimes , the coincidental aim of an inanimate object can be supernaturally true, and it hit me square in the chin and then fell to the ground. I’m not sure where in the sequence of events this happened, but I became aware of the outcome with the delightful sizzle of tobacco embers nestled in my beard near the corner of my mouth. To rectify this fire hazard, I quickly extinguished my face in the muddy ground beside me.

Thankfully, my warrior’s pride was more damaged than I was. I survived with no more than some scrapes and bruises.

After my dog came to inform me she had successfully scared off the intruder, I crawled back to my feet and made my way back inside…

To refill my pipe.