The Amish storekeeper was busy with a couple of other customers when we got to his little homestead, farm and store. Mel led the way behind his store building to his kennels. I hobbled behind her on my crutches marveling at a couple of adult dogs running loose around the little farm. They looked happy and carefree.
We walked into a small barn with about 10 good sized kennel pens. Four of the pens had dams and their puppy litters in residence. Everything was clean and neat. There were full water pans in each kennel. All of the dogs all appeared to be in very good condition. If this was a rural puppy mill like what had been in the news so often lately, I was surprised. This wasn’t anything like what I’d seen on TV. I knew though that what I was seeing here was probably an exception and only the tip of the iceberg for puppy mills, but these dogs really did look happy and well cared for.
“I don’t know exactly what I expected but this is a pleasant surprise.”
“Yes, Hannah always...” Mel stopped cold in the middle of her sentence.
“Hannah?”
“Hannah Yoder, the owner’s daughter. She’s always out here tending to the dogs and the kennels. She takes good care of them. She’s usually the one to tell you which ones are weaned and ready to be homed and if you can hold one.”
I looked around. “Well then where is she? I’d love to hold a puppy.” I had my eye on a little black fuzz ball of a dog that was kicking up a fuss from his pen, trying to get our attention.
“My best guess is somewhere near Putnam Hill Park in Zanesville.” At my puzzled expression, Mel said, “She’s the girl I saw there when we were talking on Monday that I thought looked familiar but that I couldn’t place.”
“Mel, that girl wasn’t Amish. She wasn’t dressed like their women dress.”
“You’re right. She wasn’t dressed Amish but I’m certain it was her. Maybe she’s left the Order.”
“Left the Order? Can they do that?”
“Yes; they can do that! They’re not prisoners Dana. Some do leave. Come on, let’s go inside and talk to Silas Yoder, Hannah’s father.”
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