Cast Iron Click-Clack

I slipped right past the door frame onto the wooden porch steps. There it was—a heavy cast-iron mechanical shoe scraper shaped like a dachshund, with bristly brush flanks! I jumped both boots straight onto the dog's cold iron back. Clank! I gripped its curved tail with both gloved hands and shook it back and forth like a runaway lever. The stiff coconut bristles rasped against my soles with a loud zzz-shuck sound! I leaned too far back into the dramatic finale, slipped off the iron spine, and tumbled tail-over-heels into a wide terracotta planter saucer full of dry pine needles. Solid landing, zero dust on my shoes!