Read time: 7 min.

Read this in a Rod Serling voice: “An old woman and a dog named Annie, off to bed for a tranquil evening of rest. Down the road, one Emerson Fay tends to his flock a final time before he, too, retires for the eve. For most, this night will be a rest- a much-needed end to a day of toil…for most, but not for all. For Annie, the dog, won’t spend the evening simply counting sheep. Tonight, she won’t be coming home from the backwoods. That’s the signpost up ahead: She’s headed towards the courthouse- of The Twilight Zone Hardin County, Ohio.”

The trial of Annie the Dog for killing Emerson Fay’s sheep would have felt like some bizarre melodrama out of The Twilight Zone if the show had gone on air a couple years earlier. The pup’s saga is one of the weirdest court battles I’ve ever heard of, and it remains one of the most memorable ordeals to have taken place in and around the 1915 courthouse in Kenton. 

Here are the facts: on the morning of February 25, 1957, a farmer named Emerson Fay woke to find several deceased sheep. He believed that Annie -a 105-pound St. Bernard owned by the neighboring Perkins family- was responsible for the massacre. Although her owners strongly refuted Fay’s claims by insisting that she’d been tied up all night with no possible means of escape, Annie was ordered into county custody and eventually sentenced to death. The case received widespread coverage as friends of Ms. Perkins formed an association called the Hardin County Animal Protective League to appeal the decision.

There was a human element to the case: as a child, Gene Perkins had scrimped and saved his boyhood pocket money to buy Annie. He loved his dog! Unfortunately, Perkins was a PFC stationed for duty in Augsburg, Germany, at the time of her alleged indiscretion. Although he was too far away to come to her defense, the plight of an enlisted man’s beloved childhood pet went viral as far away as Long Beach, California, and Perkins’ camp in Europe. Supportive letters and funds poured in from near and far as Annie awaited her fate at a local kennel.

The courthouse where Annie’s fate was adjudicated is Hardin County’s third. The first structure was a brick building that measured 30×40 feet, rose two stories, and was completed in 1835. A hallway bisected the first floor into two rooms that contained offices of the county auditor and clerk, while court was held in the second story. The local sheriff was said to “carry his office in his hat¹,” but a two-room frame structure was eventually built south of the courthouse to provide additional space. This arrangement, though spartan, worked well enough until the buildings were all destroyed by an early-morning fire on March 4, 1853.

Poor Annie’s great-great-granddog was never implicated in starting the blaze, but a replacement was finished the following year. A two-story Greek Revival building measuring 64×51 feet, Hardin County’s second courthouse featured open vestibules on its east and west sides framed by enormous stone columns². A three-story belfry capped with a brass globe and weathervane surmounted the building’s roof.

The current model, completed in 1915, is much more ornate than either predecessor. One of Ohio’s largest courthouses, the building is seven bays wide on its primary north and south faces with symmetrical facades built from Indiana limestone³. From an architectural standpoint, the Hardin County Courthouse rivals any of its Beaux Arts and Second Empire peers across the neighboring counties.

Here’s a fun fact: Hardin County was home to Jacob Parrot, the first recipient of the Medal of Honor, the United States Government’s highest military decoration awarded to those who have distinguished themselves through valorous acts. Parrot was one of nineteen men who, during the Civil War, captured a train in Big Shanty, Georgia to try and destroy the railroad infrastructure between Chattanooga and Atlanta in what later became known as the 1862 Great Locomotive Chase⁴. Perhaps in his honor, the current courthouse contains an unusual “Veteran’s Hall,” where fraternal organizations like the United Spanish War Veterans and Grand Army of the Republic once met⁵.

For us Hoosiers, the building closely resembles courthouses in Auburn and Danville, with a central projection and triangular pediment supported by Ionic columns back outside. A balustrade tops the flat roof, which hides certain exterior elements necessary for a real treat within the building’s walls: a barrel-vaulted skylight of stained glass that illuminates a three-story lobby⁶. The building’s courtroom features a smaller skylight that “only” measures 33×19. If combined, both skylights make up 75% of the floor space of the county’s first courthouse! I’d love to have gone inside and see it so long as my dog wasn’t on trial.

Speaking of Annie, after several months, Judge Arthur Tudor dissolved a temporary injunction that prevented the county pound from killing the pooch⁷, but the warden’s past conduct -including allegations that he had privately sold a different dog after it’d been surrendered to him for destruction⁸– came to light as the Animal Protective League traded barbs with the county prosecutor, who suggested that they give some consideration to the inhumane treatment of the sheep that were killed if they were truly concerned with the ethical treatment of animals. “We are not a club sponsoring sheepkilling!” a spokeswoman declared in response⁹.

Eventually, the court of appeals granted a permanent injunction against the dog’s execution because, even if she had killed Emerson Fay’s sheep, she hadn’t been caught in the act of doing so. After fifteen months of “living in the executioner’s shadow10,” Annie was a free dog! She returned to family custody before Gene was discharged and claimed her in July, 1958. Presumably, Annie lived the rest of her life contentedly in the company of her loyal owners and away from any tempting ungulates.

As a fan of county courthouses because of their monumental architecture, their practical and intended usage sometimes fly right over my head. A human element exists within these buildings, one related to those who work, transact business, and come to justice in our historic courthouses. Sometimes -and especially with the Hardin County Courthouse in Kenton- that factor of humanity is actually a canine one.

Let’s do the Rod Serling impression one more time to wrap things up: “It’s a dog-eat-sheep world, but the truth never damages a cause that is just. In the case of one Alice, the St. Bernard, the moral duty that is justice prevailed in her favor. A quizzical outcome when prevailing against people, one only found- in the Twilight Zone…”

“…I mean, the Hardin County Courthouse.”

TL;DR
Hardin County (pop. 31,425, 72/88)
Lima (pop. 8,284)
Built: 1915
Cost: $275,000 ($7.19 million today)
Architect: Richards, McCarty & Bulford
Style: Neoclassical
Courthouse Square: Shelbyville Square
Height: 3 stories
Current Use: County offices and courts
Photographed: 11/2/19

Sources Cited
1 “The History of Hardin County, Ohio” Warner, Beers & Co. [Chicago]. 1883. Print.
2 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map- Kenton, Ohio. 1911. Sanborn Fire Insurance Company. Library of Congress. Web. Retrieved 1/31/21.
3 Owen, Lorrie K., ed. “Dictionary of Ohio Historic Places.” Volume 2. North American Book Distribution, LLC. 2008. Print.
4 “PARROTT, JACOB, Civil War Medal of Honor recipient”. American Civil War. Central Design Lab. Web, Retrieved 1/31/21.
5 “Hardin County Courthouse” The Supreme Court of Ohio & The Ohio Judicial System. The Supreme Court of Ohio [Columbus]. Web. Retrieved 1/31/21.
6 Thrane, Susan W., Patterson, B., & Patterson, T. “County Courthouses of Ohio” Indiana University Press [Bloomington]. November 1, 2000. Print. 
7 “Sheep-Killing Dog Ordered Executed” The Chillicothe Gazette [Chillicothe]. May 21, 1957. 11. Print. 
8 “Hardin Animal Association Readies Action on Hattery” The Lima News [Lima]. September 17, 1957. 1. Print.
9 “Annie’s Owner Says: ‘First…I Cried, and Then I Swore” The Lima News [Lima]. March 31, 1957. 1. Print.
10 “Dog Named Annie Awarded Freedom” The Wilmington News-Journal [Wilmington]. June 3, 1958. 1. Print.