It stands just south of an ornate castellated archway, roofless and overgrown now, but still roughly eight metres tall, its rendered limestone walls tapering gently as they rise to a brick cornice. Three pointed blind windows, purely decorative openings that give the impression of Gothic arches without actually piercing the wall, line the upper south elevation, lending the structure a faintly ecclesiastical air that sits strangely against its agricultural setting.

A dovecote, for those unfamiliar with the form, was a dedicated pigeon house, typically built by landowners to provide a reliable year-round source of fresh meat and eggs, as well as dung used as fertiliser. They were a mark of status as much as utility, and the Glenanore example reflects that dual function in its detailing. Inside, the first floor retains seven tiers of nesting boxes, constructed with brick sides, stone lintels, and stone beds, giving the interior a honeycomb regularity that would once have accommodated a substantial colony of birds. What is harder to explain are the unusual round-headed shadow marks still visible in the plaster on the internal walls, the ghostly outlines of fittings or structures that have since disappeared entirely. There is also a fireplace set into the east wall, a feature rarely found in a dovecote and suggestive of a secondary use, perhaps as a garden room or a keeper's shelter. The original internal ground floor no longer survives; it was once supported by corbels, stones projecting from the wall to carry a timber platform, and rested above a sub-floor roughly a metre deep.

The building is in a ruinous state, open to the sky, and sits within a working farmyard context rather than any kind of managed heritage site. The castellated archway immediately to its north is itself a notable piece of estate architecture, and the two together give a sense of how self-consciously designed the approach to Glenanore House once was.