My TRUE Halloween Hellhound Horror Story (yes, there's a numismatic tie-in.) *Scroll down for 2014
lordmarcovan
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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.
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.
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Comments
<< <i>LordM, Probably fortunate you are not digging thru poo today in search of your coin!
<< <i>
<< <i>LordM, Probably fortunate you are not digging thru poo today in search of your coin!
The fossils rare still missing, aren't they
Looking for Top Pop Mercury Dime Varieties & High Grade Mercury Dime Toners.
"Everything is on its way to somewhere. Everything." - George Malley, Phenomenon
http://www.americanlegacycoins.com
LOL.
<< <i>That is great! You gotta love our four legged, foul snouted, frightening friends! Your dog and my pooch would get along perfectly!
I suppose they'd really "dig" each other, eh?
The only casualties were the mailer and the expensive NGC plastic.
PCGS, take note: my dog prefers NGC, it would seem. Your marketing wonks need to work on the aroma and taste of PCGS plastic, if you want a bigger share of the canine market. May I suggest a nice bacon flavor, perhaps?
Funny, a guy at work saw me grimacing at the flavor of a deposit envelope I was licking to seal tonight, and said that they actually make envelopes with bacon flavored adhesive. Only in America. That's what makes this country great, I say. But we couldn't have them in this household. Seven cats plus three dogs plus a box of bacon-scented envelopes would equal... well, you do the math. Mayhem, that's what it would equal.
Glad you have a sense of humor and glad Max has an understanding Dad . . .
Drunner
<< <i>my dog ate it...
LOL. >>
LOL!!
I have to say that is the best "My dog ate it" excuse that I have ever heard! I am sure that you can have it encased for a reasonable charge. Right? -Dan
Eric
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CoinsAreFun Toned Silver Eagle Proof Album
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Gallery Mint Museum, Ron Landis& Joe Rust, The beginnings of the Golden Dollar
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More CoinsAreFun Pictorials NGC
Nah, I guess not.
He was waiting at the gate for me when I came home tonight.
I wanted to kick his teeth in, but ended up patting him on the head, instead. If I had kicked him, I probably would've broken some toes on that thick skull, anyway.
I just patted him on the head and cussed him out in a gentle, crooning voice.
Eric
One dog enter with bubble mailer, one dog leave.
"Keep your malarkey filter in good operating order" -Walter Breen
Michael Kittle Rare Coins --- 1908-S Indian Head Cent Grading Set --- No. 1 1909 Mint Set --- Kittlecoins on Facebook --- Long Beach Table 448
When you talk about a culprit .... This video comes in mind!
8 Reales Madness Collection
Of course, we shouldn't jump to any fast conclusions, here. There's no shortage of other suspects. Here are just a few of them.
Bailey.
Bailey was spotted near the scene of the crime, just before I went to bed on the night in question.
But Bailey is eleven years old, arthritic, and too short to reach up onto the desk and snatch a bubble mailer (unless he jumped, which he doesn't do so well anymore). And he's now just about completely blind from cataracts. His eyes, which were clear in this older picture, have now gone milky white. It gives him a spooky, zombie-dog appearance, but I think we can probably dismiss Bailey as a suspect. He would've bumped into the wall on his way out the door.
Dixie.
Dixie's a good-sized dog, and she can bodyslam even the mighty Max when he gets too rambunctious. Her teeth could easily have caused that damage to the slab.
But look at the picture above, and tell me if you think this looks like an animal who would've expended the necessary energy to open the front door from the inside, snatch the bubble mailer, carry it outside, tear it open, trample it, and then chew the slab while scattering the rest of the stuff across the lawn.
Yeah. That's what I thought you'd say. I agree. Dixie looks too lazy to be a good suspect. She's not off the hook completely, but I think we can look elsewhere.
Maisy.
Maisy likes coins, as proven by the snapshot below. Those were some Buffalo nickels she had "collected". She liked to sleep on top of the open album.
But Maisy has a pretty tight alibi. At the time of the crime, she was asleep in the bed with me, rolled up in a tight, furry ball under my arm. I think we can dismiss Maisy.
Oreo and Doublestuf (aka "Rosie").
These sisters dress like cat burglars. Note their black masks. And both were seen tiptoeing around on the roof above the front door, just prior to the crime.
But the sisters actually prefer to remain outdoors. (This kitten picture of them was a rare indoor shot.) Nowadays they don't even come inside when the door is held open for them, let alone force it open and snatch a bubble mailer. And they've never shown an inclination to collect coins.
Oscar.
In Oscar, we might have a pretty good suspect. He too liked coins, as indicated in his baby picture, here. He liked slabs, too.
And he grew from an undernourished runt into the biggest tomcat in the neighborhood.
Not only that, he was also a proven thief. Here we have photographic evidence of him stealing one of Bailey's bones, and then a second one.
Yes, we could consider Oscar a prime suspect, but for one reason. Oscar might have the best alibi of all.
You see, he's dead.
Oscar met a tragic end last summer when he jumped the neighbor's fence and encountered their Siberian husky. He didn't jump back fast enough.
Oscar's spirit went on to The Great Litterbox In The Sky, and we buried his poor, broken body under the gardenia bush in the front yard.
Oh. Wait a second... in the front yard. The very scene of the crime! Oscar's grave is in the same yard where the evidence was found!
And it was Halloween night, when dead things rise and walk the earth again. *Gasp* ... could it be?
Maybe! Then again, maybe not. Oscar preferred sandwich meat to slabs. His other favorite delicacy was live lizards. I doubt he ever acquired a taste for plastic.
Will we ever solve this case?
(Not while I can milk it for all it's worth, haha. We could end up with an old-style whodunit radio serial, here.)
I guess he thought you were packaging up and sending off his chew toys. He had other plans.........
Maybe he DOESN'T like NGC better, but is programmed to destroy all NGC slabs!!!!!!!!!!!
Too many positive BST transactions with too many members to list.
LMAO
When I saw the pictures before reading, I thought the slab said "barkers mark" instead of "bankers mark". Thought you had gotten some special designation. Maybe now you can. Get NGC to put the slab into a larger slab with "barkers mark". It could be a whole new business line for them.
This story also shows why all ancient coins should be slabbed. Something no ancient collectors would ever disagree with.
(Seems there were pages of letters to the editor in the 1990's when first proposed.)
"To Be Esteemed Be Useful" - 1792 Birch Cent --- "I personally think we developed language because of our deep need to complain." - Lily Tomlin
<< <i>"barkers mark" >>
Olmanjon
http://bit.ly/bxi7py
<< <i>... you do resemble Tom Hanks in a weird sorta way. You sure Max don't answer to Fletch? >>
Hootch.
<< <i> May I suggest a nice bacon flavor, perhaps? >>
next time wash your hands before packing them
i wondered why my boxer was so interested in your envelopes.
<< <i>
Max doesn't need that guy.
He needs THIS guy.
(Had to replace that second pic when this thread got resurrected, 'cause it had gone red-x. Don't remember what it was, except was funny at the time. Funnier than the replacement.)
I can totally relate...thanks
THEN he went after the neighbor's chicken. Lucky for the chicken, it was in a wire mesh pen, which Max was doing his level best to bash through, like a canine battering ram. He was so preoccupied with the chicken that I was able to snatch him up by the collar (grabbing a good bit of ear in the process), and so I towed him home by the ear and collar. I'd never have caught him otherwise. When he runs, there's no catchin' him- you'd need one of those rocket nets they use to catch flocks of birds, or tranquilizer darts, or a lasso. I just let him run until he tires himself out.
Last night, he snouted open the front door again, but this time, I was sitting at the desk. I stood up and kicked him in the side. (Not too hard.)
Bad idea- I was barefooted and nearly broke my toes on his bulletproof hide. He got the message, at least.
Stupid cur.
You DO have a butler don't you m'Lord?
<< <i>You DO have a butler don't you m'Lord? >>
No, but I briefly trained to BE a butler, back in 2001.
I guess I'm lucky to have a Pillow Troll (Boston Terrier) instead of a ranch hound. The only thing that goes missing around my place is croutons.