In the jungles deep and wide,  
Where mysteries and dangers hide,  
A tiny soul was found inside  
A foxhole, where she did abide.

Smoky, of the Yorkshire breed,  
Tiny, but mighty in deed.  
In World War II, a friend in need,  
A soldier's companion, lead by creed.

For $6.44, a bond was sold,  
Between a Corporal brave and bold,  
And Smoky, whose story would unfold,  
In battles fierce and nights so cold.

She lived a life of soldier's fare,  
Shared meals, and slept in Wynne's care.  
No official badge did she wear,  
Yet her courage was beyond compare.

Twelve missions high, in backpack stowed,  
Above the clouds, her spirit glowed.  
150 air raids, the danger sowed,  
Yet by her side, safety flowed.

She warned of shells, a guardian light,  
In darkest hours, a beacon bright.  
Her heart, her spirit, fierce in fight,  
Guiding through the perilous night.

A performer too, with tricks to show,  
Entertaining troops, a morale bow.  
In hospitals, her presence would glow,  
Healing hearts, with her spirited flow.

Back to the U.S., hidden away,  
In an oxygen mask, she made her stay.  
Her legacy, in hearts, would sway,  
Entertaining, healing, every day.

For ten more years, she gave her love,  
To veterans, with a grace from above.  
Her life, a testament, to the power of  
The smallest being, with the heart of a dove.

Smoky, the first Therapy Dog, named,  
In history, her legacy framed.  
A tiny warrior, fiercely acclaimed,  
Her spirit, forever untamed.

So remember the dog who braved the fight,  
With soldiers, through the darkest night.  
Her courage, love, and shining light,  
A beacon of hope, forever bright.

February 16, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop