It sits just 55 metres north-east of Moyne Franciscan friary, close enough to have been functionally part of that complex, yet far enough removed to suggest a specific purpose. The current thinking is that it served as the friary's hospital or infirmary, probably built sometime in the 15th or 16th century, though the plain limestone rubble masonry offers no clear architectural dating evidence.

What gives the building its peculiar historical texture is a passing remark by Donatus Mooney, a Franciscan historian writing in the early 17th century. In his account of Moyne, he noted that large ships could sail up as far as the infirmary at high tide, which places this modest two-storey structure at what was once a working waterfront. The shoreline is only 25 metres to the east today. A later observer, O'Hara, writing in 1898, mentioned the same infirmary and its enclosure alongside the stream running east from the friary, but added a detail that reframes the whole place: by his time it was locally known as 'the kennel', having apparently been put to that use by whoever took ownership after the friary's dissolution. A building that once housed the sick brothers of a Franciscan community had become, somewhere in the intervening centuries, a dog kennel.

The fabric of the building preserves considerable detail despite its roofless state. The west gable still stands to around three metres, and sockets in the north wall once held the timber joists of an upper floor. Inside the doorway, the foundations of two short walls set at right angles may represent a small entrance lobby or vestibule. A semi-circular fireplace roughly 70 centimetres wide sits in the west gable at ground level, and patches of internal plasterwork survive on the walls. An elder tree has since taken root in the interior, and ivy covers the stonework thickly, which is worth knowing if you are trying to read the masonry, as much of the surface detail is obscured.