The Truth About Black Boxers

There has been a recent surge in backyard breeders charging upwards of $2,300.00 for the 'rare' BLACK Boxer. Unfortunately, these unscrupulous breeders are preying on the uneducated public as BLACK Boxers do NOT exist. Boxers do NOT carry the gene for the BLACK coat color, it is impossible to have a true BLACK Boxer; instead, there are brindles with such a concentration of striping that they appear to be Black. Often times, fawn (or brown) stripes can be seen under direct light, which indicates a brindle Boxer. All Boxers that are sold as BLACK are actually registered with the AKC as brindle or Black White and Tan. There is NO registration number for BLACK in the AKC for the Boxer. Calling your dog or bitch 'BLACK' because it looks black is no different than calling a fawn 'brown' or 'red' or a brindle 'striped'.

This is a 1902 picture of a Chicago Kennel Club Dog Show by famed artist George Ford Morris. While his specialty was horses, this piece, done when he was 29, shows the powerful bodies and magnificent heads that were to be his hallmarks. The artist’s signature was printed on the original between the front and back legs of the boxer. George Ford Morris (1873 – 1960) was considered the master of horse paintings and drawings. He was also a founding member and later President of the American Animal Artists Association.

Black Boxer History

This is the Chapter titled “THE BLACK BOXER” in its entirety as written by Friederun straight from the book in my possession titled:



“The story of the black boxer goes back as far as the first boxer stud book, which was started in the year 1904. It included the entry of the dog Graf Blitz von Graudenz 178, born 8th August 1899, whose parents were michels Max and Lore von Eisleben. This dog was shown and won prizes, Naturally he became the occasion of quarrels. I got to know the black boxers through their founder, Mr. Schachtner. This man bred these black boxers, but formented resistance against them by unacceptable behavior. That they became extinct was also his doing. I had only just started in the dog game and had just bought Rolf von Vogelsberg, when one day Mr. Schachtner asked me whether I would like to mate Rolf to his Biola and Asta, who were the black daughter of Graf Blitz von Graudenz. It was something new and therefore I agreed with enthusiasm. When I met my friend Mr. Schmoger again I mentioned the black ones to him and he told me to leave well alone. To his mind there were no really black ones: when seen by sunlight they were all dark brindles or brown. To offset this I told him that Biola and Asta had intensive black colouring, especially Asta. Hr. Schmoger insisted that in those circumstances those two could not be boxers. I could not agree with this, although I had to admit that neither of the black bitches were top class, but to further the quality of this black colouring intrigued me and I said so explicitly. My friend got very angry with me then, and told me in the end that Lore von Eisleben, the grandmother of the two black bitches, was a Bulldog bitch. At a show she accidentally got mated by a Schnauzer, The breeder never disputer this. Mr. Schmoger, however was sure that the black colour was wrong and therefore it was not accepted by the Munich Club. The gauntlet had been thrown down. I should have gone ahead even though it meant going against my best friend, as I wanted to show that I was able to do what others could not. In doing so I overlooked many things with which I was unable to cope. After some time I bought a bitch from Mr. Schachtner out of a black litter. The price was high but the quality of the bitch so poor that I could not use her in my kennels. As she was an excellent guard dog and quite fearless, Mr. Schmoger managed to place her in a home where she would be well cared for, but would not be used for breeding purposes. The money I had spent for her I had to put to my debit account. As Mr. Schmoger was clever enough not to may any further conditions, the matter of the Bavarian black breed seemed finished. But the black colouring had interested not only myself. A breeder from the Allgau, Edmund Halter, had also mated a black bitch to Rolf von Vogelsberg. The result was a litter of extremely beautiful black animals; such as never before were seen. The best of all was the black male Flock von der Adeleck. Flock did very well in the ring, and I was tempted again. In Munich at Nymphenburg Castle, a special boxer show was to be held. From near and far Boxer Breeders were coming to this show. It was very difficult in those days to find accommodations and Mr. Halter, therefore, wrote to ask me whether I would look after his Flock for a few days. I agreed, after making a special consideration. Up to then only second-rate bitches from the black strain had been mated with the best dogs. How would he like it if I mated my top class Rassel von Dom with his black Flock? Rassel was just in season and my old ambition came alive again. I would defy Mr. Schmoger, come what might. I had promised to take Flock to the show and had to be at his best, so I cut his toenails and brushed him, but the result did not satisfy me. Mr. Schmoger was not altogether wrong. At the quarters the colour was not as intense as it could have been. What would I do? A tin of shoe polish found its way into my hand. At first as a joke, I began to brush Flock with the cream, but the more I did it the better I liked the result. Flock looked marvelous and literally shone, and I was sure that everybody would be astonished. When I arrived at the show the next day, the first person I saw was the owner of Flock. He was speechless at the sight of his dog, and then he said it was a pity that his wife could not look after Flock in the way that I had done. I was in the best of Spirits. It was springtime and my dress, the only good one I had, was of cream coloured real Russian silk, and how it suited me! I knew that the black dog would look twice as good with this as a contrast. He walked close to my side and I made sure that the Munich Boxer bigwigs could see him. In the ring, however, Flock had to be handled by his master. As he came to collect his dog for the class, he told me with horror that my dress was all black on the left side. My sins had found me out. The black shoe polish! I could do no more than hand the dog to the owner and ask Mr. Halter to lend me his coat so that I could drape it over my left arm. From then on I kept out of sight. I do not know whether anybody noticed, but I doubt if they would have blamed me if they had. The colouring did not add to or detract from the dog’s chances, and in America would have been regarded as a type of make-up in the fashion of that country. But I did not feel too happy about it and it was the only time I ever did anything like that. “It looked as though the mating was going as planned. I wanted to have three puppies and no more. One of the brindles was already bespoken and I wanted a pair for myself, a black dog and a black bitch. One of these I wanted to be jet black and the other to have white markings. It took me a long time to make up my mind which one I would prefer to have the white markings, but in the end I decided that the male would look nice with some colour and the bitch, as I wanted to breed from her, should be dead black. When the sixty third day arrived Rassel, and I had hoped, actually gave birth to a black brindle dog with white markings. Just as I had dreamed, only the all black bitch was missing. However the following day saw that wish come true too. As long as I have been breeding I have never predicted a litter like this again. Was this an omen? Surely fate had decreed that I should breed black boxers? Unfortunately time proved otherwise. The two black ones I named Ulla and Utter. Ulla was a charming little lady with a beautifully modeled head. Utter became a striking looking powerful male. As I was unable to show these two I sent pictures of them and literature about them to the dog papers. I had no intention of parting with them, but when I got a high offer for Utter from the found of the black strain I agreed. It seemed to me that Mr.Schachtner had both the means and the talent to enable him to build up a black strain faster than I. Later I learned that he had lost a great deal because of his stubbornness and lack of consideration for the opinion of others.”




This is the Chapter titled “THE END OF THE BLACK BOXER” in its entirety as
written by Friederun straight from the book in my possession titled:



"In the autumn of 1918 my husband once again had leave. He was to take reinforcement to the front line, but it never came to that. The collapse of our forces everywhere brought the war to an end. Conditions at the time of the collapse were not so good, but everyone began to breathe more easily. Peace, however bad, is always better than war and we were determined to shake off the depressions of the last four years. We wanted to do everything anew and to do better than ever before. Munich began to prepare for a new show. My old Rolf had come home. Though he was eleven years old he looked well after his war duties. He was noble and lean, with not an ounce too much fat, and his head was still clean and fine. Only his daughter Rassel had a skull like his. But he was tired, like an old man who had seen the grimness of war and grown weary of life. I had special hopes for this dog show. I entered Ulla and Utter as I wanted to show two superb black specimens. The only competition I feared was from the fawn males. To make sure, I entered Rolf in the open class for brindles. Utter was entered in the same class. Altogether there were seven dogs bred by me. When I opened the catalogue I saw straight away that Rolf and Utter were the only two entries in their class. If I did not show Rolf, then Utter must get the first prize and therefore win the title of Champion. Utter was such a nice animal that first place could not be denied him and with this the blacks would have won a unique victory. All the same I had an uneasy feeling about it. The fawns, always first in the ring, began to show. They were poor specimens with nothing of their bygone spendour. They were headed by a grandson of Milo, Alexander von Deutenkoven, a promising young dog that unfortunately vanished from the breed without siring any progeny. He was followed by a Milo son, also a war veteran, and in third place stood the old winner Rino von der Elbe. At one time Rino had been Milo’s strongest rival. His former owner had been an Englishman who would not have sold the dog at any price, but at the beginning of the war when he left Germany he was forced to leave the dog behind. Now the dog stood in the ring, old and worn out, a mere shadow of his former self. The judge wrote in his critique: “Still an outstanding dog for his age. Just as he had once been beaten by Champion Milo, so today he had to give way to his son.” Then came the brindles. I fetched Utter and entered as the only one in the ring. The atmosphere was not pleasant. At the time I did not know that the judge had accepted the judging appointment on the strict condition that no first awards were to be made to black Boxers. I only learned that much later. There were many onlookers and Utter clearly made a great impression on all except the breeders. This strong dog with his white markings and white neckband showed himself beautifully. However, the Munich breeders received him in icy silence. All eyes were on the judge and I sensed he felt the atmosphere too. He came over and told me that he liked Utter’s size, his beauty, although his back was a bit long, but his head was typical and noble. He could not pass the colour, however. In his opinion, to get first prize the dog should be all black and at this was not the case, the first prize must be withdrawn. At that moment I could not take in the judge’s remarks, for in those days there was no colour definition. At first I did not want to return to the ring with Rolf. But should I take away the last win from my old, true companion? So I brought in Rolf and he got the first prize with the mark “first class” and his fifth championship title. In his critique the judge wrote only: “Still the beautiful Rolf.” To emphasize his decision, the judge withdrew the second prize too and gave Utter the third prize with the mark “very good”. In his critique he wrote” “For the lovers of the black colour, a very nice dog, but he will never have success at a show.” So I got my reprimand. I had lost all along the line, not because my breeding was not good enough. No, because the judging had been unfair and unsporting. It was not much of a consolation that Rassel got her champion title that day. Her half-sister Morna vom Dom followed her, and in third place came the little black Ulla, and the mark “excellent” could not be denied her. People do not change. Even long years of war cannot alter them. In those days surely there were more important matters for attention than vehement disputes about black or white colorations? Agreed, the white colour had to be suppressed in case it got the upper hand. But there was no reason to sign the death warrant of the black strain. Maybe I could have done something had I really tried, but the ways and means of such discussions were abhorrent to my nature, and in any case it soon became clear to me that more was at stake in the country than the colour of Boxers. The after war years were almost as bad as the war itself. Germany was near collapse and hundreds of thousands of livelihoods were in danger. We too had to decide. Should we change our life and would it not be better to give up the dogs?"


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