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Here is a sample of Black Boxer history from the book," My Life With Boxers"
The Black Boxers
The history of the black Boxer reaches back to the first stud book begun in 1904. Among other entries, there was one for the black Boxer dog, Graf Blitz von Graudenz, whelped 8 August 1899. Parents were Michel’s Max and Lore von Eisleben. Blitz was shown and won trophies. That the dog became controversial was probably to be expected.
I met black Boxers through their originator, Mr. Schachtner. He had bred them well, but knew little about good sportsmanship and stirred up opposition just by his personality. The extinction of black Boxers has to be laid at his feet. When I met him, I had not been in the sport long and had just purchased Rolf von Vogelsberg. Mr. Schachtner asked if I would be willing to breed Rolf to two of the black Blitz’s daughters, Biola and Aster von Graudenz. That was something new, and I eagerly agreed to do it.
When I later met my friend from the Boxer Club, Mr. Schmöger, I mentioned the black Boxers. He advised me to keep my fingers out of it. In his opinion, there were no blacks, because if you took them out into bright sunlight you could see they were either dark brindles or brown. But I told him that Biola and especially Asta were indeed an intensive black. Schmöger claimed, however, that neither one was then a real Boxer. I disagreed.
But I had to admit that neither one of the black bitches was a quality animal, yet I was still intrigued by the idea of breeding to them. And I told Schmöger that. Whereupon he became very angry. Finally, he told me that Lore von Eisleben, the granddam of both black Boxer bitches, had been a Bulldog bitch. During an exhibition she came into season and was accidentally bred by a Schnauzer. Even the breeder would not deny that. Schmöger’s position was that black was not a color natural to the Boxer breed, and because of that the Munich Boxer Club would not recognize it.
With that, he had thrown down the gauntlet. I would have picked it up, even if it weren’t my best friend who threw it at my feet. They were going to find out I could finish a job that others might have broken their teeth on. Of course, I was taking on some things that I was not quite up to yet.
A little later, I purchased a bitch from one of Schachtner’s black litters. She was not cheap, and her quality was so poor that I could not use her in my breeding program. Since the bitch was alert and courageous, Schmöger helped me find a good home for her, but breeding her was out of the question. Her cost had to be counted as a loss. Schmöger was smart enough not to give me any more orders, so the matter of breeding black Boxers in Bavaria seemed to be closed.
I was not the only one who liked the black color. Edmund Halter, a breeder from Allgäu, also had a black bitch bred to Rolf. The result was a litter of beautiful black animals, better than ever shown before. From that litter, the best was Flock von der Adeleck. Flock had a successful show career. And it was Flock who revived my old desire to breed to a black Boxer.
A special Boxer show had been scheduled to take place at the Nymphenburg Castle in Munich. Exhibitors were coming from distant places, and it was very difficult then to find any housing in Munich. Mr. Halter wrote to me and asked if I could put up Flock for a few days. I agreed, and that put me to thinking. Up to now, black bitches of terrible quality were mated with the best stud dogs. How would it work, I thought, if a high quality bitch—such as Rassel vom Dom—were mated with the very nice Flock? And Rassel was in heat right then. My old ambition came alive, and besides, I wanted to show Schmöger a little stubbornness, come what may!
I had promised to bring Flock to the show. He was going to look as beautiful as possible, so I trimmed his long nails and brushed him. But the result did not satisfy me. Schmöger was not entirely wrong, the coloring on Flock’s flanks was not as deep as it ought to be. What could I do about it? Next thing I knew, there was a can of black shoe polish in my hand. I began brushing some of the polish into his coat, more for fun than anything, but the more I did it the more it pleased me. Flock looked brilliant, brilliant in the true sense of the word. He actually glittered. I was positive everyone would be astounded.
When I arrived at the show the next day, the first one to run up to me was Flock’s owner. He was just speechless over the appearance of his dog. His wife, he told me in an almost regrettable way, had never been able to do such a wonderful job grooming Flock as I had.
I was in a really good mood. Spring was here, and I was wearing my only nice dress. It was made of cream-colored Russian silk. I knew the black Boxer would have twice the impact beside me. And he walked right beside me, as I paraded him around to meet all the Munich Boxer prominences.
Flock’s owner was supposed to take him into the ring. But when the owner approached me, he was horrified to see the left side of my nice silk dress had black smeared all over it. My sins had come back: it was the black shoe polish! I had no choice but to turn Flock over to his master, and I asked Mr. Halter to loan me his coat, which I then draped over my left arm. All I could do was stand quietly off to the side.
I have no idea if anyone else had noticed my blunder. It probably would not have hurt me even if they had noticed. Coloring a dog usually made no difference anyway. It would have probably all gone under the category of "make up," as the Americans call it. But it bothered me a lot, and in fact it was the first and last time I ever tried such a thing.
Actually, it all seemed to go as I had planned. I only wanted three puppies, no more. A brindle had already been promised to a buyer. For myself, I wanted to keep a pair. I thought a lot about which one should have the white markings, decided on the male, and the girl for my breeding would have to be coal black.
When the sixty-third day came, Rassel actually delivered two boys, a brindle and a black one with white markings. Exactly as I had dreamed, only the little girl was missing. But on the next day, even that came true. As long as I have been breeding, I have never been so accurate in predicting a litter. Shouldn’t that have been a good omen for my black Boxers? Unfortunately, it didn’t turn out that way.
I named the two Ulla and Utter. Ulla was an attractive, noble, small Boxer lady with a model head. Utter, on the other hand, was a powerful, striking dog. Because I could not exhibit them, I spread the word about them through pictures and reports in the dog publications. I had not planned to sell them, but the originator of the blacks, Schachtner, sent me a very good offer for Utter, so I sold him. It seemed to me that Schachtner would have better financial means and connections than I, and he would be able to promote them better. It was not until much later that I learned his ruthless manner ruined it for all the black Boxers.
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