My Grandma had a dog named Mack he was a beautiful Boxer. When Grandma Ida and her husband decided that Max needed a mate they got Elsa, she was so sweet. At the time they were living in Idaho and running a little lodge called Clear Creek Lodge. When Elsa died my Grandmother was devastated, I think Mack was to.
This Poem was published in the Boxer Club of Treasure Valley Newsletter but I do not know the date of publication (sometime in the 70’s) if I ever find out I will share it.
ODE To ELSA
It was by chance that we found our little Valentine
She was for Gus’s birthday but I knew she’d be mine.
With Mack, our male boxer, it was love at first sight
She wasn’t home five minutes when she had her first fight.
She let the neighbor’s female know this was her territory
And when Mack kissed the winner,
She was in her glory.
So quickly and easily, she fit into our life
And everyone loved Mack’s little wife.
Together in freedom, they roamed through these hills,
Heaven knows, they acquired their share of porcupine quills.
So petite and proud not the most handsome, our little lass,
Gus said, “She’s like Carol Channing, not good looking, but she’s got class.”
As a mother to her babies, she left nothing to desire Nature had endowed her with what some human’s can’t acquire.
My fervent hope, so we will all remember her
Is that her best traits will show in her sons, Duke and Massacre.
I count my blessings that for awhile she was mine.
Little Corona’s Elsa Hera, St. Valentine.
Written by Ida Apodaca