The Boot Scraper and the Old Hunting Dog

By Mark Morgan

I got to thinking the other day about two things you don't see much anymore.

An old boot scraper and an old hunting dog.

Most country porches used to have both.

The boot scraper was usually nothing fancy. Most of the time it was a rusty piece of iron stuck beside the steps. Before you came into the house, you planted a boot on it and scraped off the mud. On a rainy Arkansas day, you could hear that scrape-scrape-scrape clear across the porch.

The old hunting dog usually wasn't far away.

Most days he'd be stretched out beside the steps, sleeping in the shade. At least that's what he wanted you to think.

Truth was, he knew everything going on.

He knew the sound of your truck before it came around the curve.

He knew when a stranger pulled into the driveway.

He knew when the kids got home from school.

And he knew every squirrel in the county by first name.

When he was young, he'd take off after anything that moved.

Rabbits.

Squirrels.

The occasional armadillo that made a poor life choice.

Back then, he could run all day and still have enough energy left to bark half the night.

Years have a way of catching up with dogs and people alike.

After a while, the black around his muzzle turned gray.

His walk got slower.

Getting up took a little longer.

Most of his chasing days were behind him.

But he still watched over the place.

He still met folks at the porch.

He still knew who belonged there.

And somehow, a house always felt a little safer with an old dog lying beside the steps.

Looking back, that old porch had more wisdom on it than I realized.

Seems like folks back then knew enough to scrape a little mud off before they came in the house.

And that old dog knew what was worth watching over once they got there.

My daddy used to say, "Don't go barking at the hole after the rabbit's gone."

I never paid much attention to it when I was young.

Back then I was too busy chasing things myself.

These days I think I understand it a little better.

Some things ain't worth carrying around.

Some things ain't worth chasing anymore.

And some things are worth guarding with all you've got.

Seems like that old boot scraper and that old hunting dog had already figured that out.

That's not a bad lesson from a couple of old-timers.