As the nation awaits news from the vet about the condition of the Celtic Tiger, this seems as good a time as any to consider a new animal motif that would better reflect our changing realities. Even if the old cat does recover - and its habitat is threatened on all fronts - it is unlikely to be suitable for the latest, less rampant phase of economic development. A more sustainable animal is clearly required.
As good fortune would have it, a whole range of domestic creatures is about to become available again for full-time symbolism, following the termination of their contracts to appear on the national coinage. The introduction of the euro, with its no-animals-need-apply approach, is the epitome of progress. But as we celebrate the seven ages of European architecture (yawn) on the new currency, it would be reassuring if we could rehabilitate at least one of the redundant animals from the Central Bank farm.
On the face of it, the salmon is the leading candidate. Long featured on the 10p coin (and before that the two shillings) the fish is famous for its ability to swim against the current, a vital skill while we wait for the US economy to pick up again. It is also capable of phenomenal growth rates: the Atlantic salmon can top 100 lbs. Most importantly, in Celtic mythology, it was a source of wisdom. We all remember the story of Fionn who, in an early parallel of the information-technology experience, touched the salmon of knowledge and got his fingers burnt, but crucially grew wise from the experience.
There are other eminent candidates, however, for example on the 20p coin. After a year in which Aidan O'Brien cleaned up at home and abroad, the horse is more than ever a symbol of Irish excellence. With the Minister for Finance now running a deficit (officially described as "a surplus"), the red deer would also have a certain aptness in its retirement from the £1 coin. The bull (5p), however, has probably been too discredited by its association with politics, and suffered another setback this year with RT╔'s decision to axe its latest satirical TV series. The woodcock (50p) would probably be shot at by the critics. But the strange Celtic birds on the 1p and 2p coins have some potential, even though their remarkable contortions in a small space are probably more symbolic of the Government's proposed solution to abortion than the economy.
We needn't confine the choice to the currency series, of course. Of the other leading candidates, however, the sheep ruled itself out of the running this year. Once an example to industry in its ability to turn short grass into wool, the sheep had an annus horribilis in 2001, during which it could not safely graze anywhere outside of Bach's hymn.
As for the pig, it has never recovered as a metaphor from its experiences at the hands of James Joyce, who suggested Ireland was an old sow that eats her farrow, and the Bacon reports have only exacerbated the problem. But there is always the cow. Sacred in India and still well-regarded here, the cow is an animal that, treated well, can be milked for 20 years. It would be in many ways the perfect symbol for a sustainable economy. Against which, environmentalists would point to its vexed relationship with the ozone layer.
There is one other possibility. Like the British bulldog, the wolfhound has long been synonymous with Ireland, although currently under contract as the emblem of the National Theatre. But there are other breeds to choose from. One of the most poignant pictures of 2001, for example, was that of TD Liam Lawlor and his dog Murph, posing at their West Dublin home as Mr Lawlor faced prison. An apparent mix of Labrador and Rottweiler, Murph is not necessarily a native species. But with his worried, soulful eyes, he seemed to epitomise the unquestioning loyalty, even in adversity, which makes the dog a man's best friend.
In an Ireland beset by tribunals, he and his canine colleagues have an added symbolic advantage. While our greatest legal minds struggle to learn the truth about certain issues, we are frequently told that the "dogs in the street" knew all along. What Murph knew can only be guessed at (although it was clearly weighing on him). But he could be the model for a generic canine symbol to replace the tiger. Combining sharp teeth with an aptitude for house-training, and with its proven success in the knowledge economy, perhaps the Celtic Hound-dog's time has come.