Yeh... be careful with coins around that dog... you may end up with your hands full. (That's as much of a scatalogical joke as I'll ever post...).
Ahh, gotta love a pug...cute little rascal! No need to feed him or her any good coins though...but.... could be a new way to achieve some so called 'AT'...or a new way to clean coins without ruining them? Anyone ever try that method? The doggy route.
Well, if you count lions (I just grabbed the first coin that was handy to take the above picture...): Imperial Rome Caracalla, r. 198-217 A.D. (203 A.D.) Rome Mint, AR Denarius, 20.4mm x 3.21 grams Obv.: ANTONINVS PIVS AVG, laureate and draped bust right Rev.: INDVLGENTIA AVGG, IN CARTH in ex, Dea Caelestis seated facing on lion galloping right over rushing waters, holding thunderbolt and scepter Ref.: RIC IV-1 Caracalla 130a, p. 231.
my avatar, Blue... my dawg (actually my Buddy... she goes everywhere with me...even spends all day with me at my office.) She is the one that has captured my better coins that I have posted. She does not have nimble paws, so she makes me post them here. Coin in honor of us being Buddies RR C Mamilius 82 BCE AR Den Serrate Mercury caduceus Ulysses Dog Argos Sear 282 Craw 362-1
Was trying to do some renumbering of my catalog while at the TV watching some preseason football. The cat was determined to be my desk:
My dog is only interested in coin roll hunting as of now. Hopefully she will join me in my new journey of collecting ancient coins!
Ahh, a cute critter post. I do enjoy them. Here is a copy-and-paste repost of one of my critter/coin stories that was originally posted on Collectors Universe on November 1, 2011: (Max the Dog has, alas, since gone on to that Big Doghouse in the Sky, after chasing - and catching - a semi truck. Suicide by log truck. He wasn't the brightest beast around. RIP, Max.) My TRUE Halloween Hellhound Horror Story Meet Max, who is seven years old. (Seen here chained up in the backyard a year or two ago.) Note the doggie dighole craters. Yep, Max is a digger, just like me. But he usually doesn't find coins, like I do. Then again, there's always a first time. Meet L. Plautius Plancus, who is 2,058 years old. (Seen here sporting a new $35+ plastic slab, fresh from NGC.) Max used to stay chained in the backyard, as you see in the photo above. Why? Well, because he's a bullet-headed destruction machine made of solid muscle, with a walnut-sized brain, that's why. He hasn't got a vicious bone in his body- in fact, he's a rather affable fella- but we learned long ago that this is NOT an inside dog. He eventually snapped the steel cable we had him attached to, so he's had the run of the yard ever since. (We've got a whole acre fenced in, fortunately, because the pony has also broken her bonds and is now a free-range yard pet, too.) Anyway, I traded away L. Plautius Plancus yesterday, to Marlene ("Mar327") here on the forums. It was to be a "downpayment" of sorts, toward a slabbed Bust quarter of hers. So when I got home from work, I packaged up the coin in a bubble mailer, along with some freebie fossils for a young family member of hers, and set it on the desk to go out in the mail today. I then went to bed quite late, around 2:30 or 3:00 AM. At some point while I slept, a horrid creature of the night pried open the not-fully latched front door with its foul snout, trod into the living room, went over to the desk, snatched up the bubble mailer in its terrible jaws, and carried it outside into the predawn gloom. My daughter got up to catch the schoolbus this morning and found a shredded bubble mailer in the front yard. It had muddy footprints on it. There were also some fossils scattered around, oddly enough. Hmm. How mystifying. And Lo and Behold, there lay L. Plautius Plancus. He's survived the last 2,058 years with only a bit of wear and an ancient banker's mark, and he's still OK ... ... but his new plastic slab didn't fare so well in the jaws of the evil nightbeast. Uh-oh! Now I've got some 'splainin' to do! So... what d'you reckon the horrid monster was? A sugar-crazed trick-or-treater with pruning shears? Nah, they'd all gone to bed. Edward Scissorhands, perhaps? Nah, Johnny Depp has moved on to other cinematic roles. Rabid, genetically-modified squirrels raised on irradiated candy corn, escaped from an experimental lab? Nah, no mad scientist labs around here, probably. And Max and the other dogs and cats would've taken out even those kinda squirrels. Hey- I know- was it was a werewolf, maybe? Hm. Well, it had been Halloween night. But this actually happened in the wee hours of November First. And it's not a full moon. OK, I'm stumped, here. Help me put the pieces together, based on the available evidence. I think I have a suspect in mind.
(You Ancient coin traditionalists are no doubt cheering the outcome for that plastic slab, and posthumously cheering for ol' Max, huh? LOL) PS- Maisy the Cat preferred Buffalo nickels.
I've solved the mystery, it was the pony that did it. Elementary my dear Watson. Yep, she looks guilty to me. That will be $2,000 for my services. I'll send you my bill in the mail.