I see my friend Moise often these days; he surprised me last week by asking if I could drive four members of an Amish family to the Albany Train station this week. I thought about it but said no. My head is still wobbly from my concussion over long distances, and I balk at the idea of being a taxi driver. It’s just not me.

(Photo, Tina sniffing the bag of dog food that I brought.)

One of the great things about Moise is that he is always comfortable asking and equally comfortable if I say no. His life requires him to enlist the help of outsiders, but he never pushes it or shows frustration.

I liked driving Moise because he usually is too busy to talk, and in a car, we both open up. I miss it, but I see no way around it, at least for now. I’ve never met anyone as hard-working and busy as Moise.

We stay connected to one another. I am always glad to see him, and he seems happy to see me. We always make time to talk. But I can’t get away from the fact that I am a photographer and a writer, and the Amish like and trust neither. So we both spend time together when we can, and it is satisfying and comfortable. He heard about my concussion mishap and kept asking me about it.

Today, when I brought the new bag of Purina dog food to their farm for Tina, young John came out and offered to hold my Iphone camera for me while I visited with Tina, and we exchanged hugs and kisses. John took the bag from the car for me; my back was still so-so.

That was very thoughtful of him. The family makes it clear that I am welcome at any time.

They offered to pay me for the food, but I declined. I knew it was more expensive than they would typically want to purchase, and they don’t believe in retail dog food.

I took on the responsibility of feeding Tina, and I will keep doing it and enjoying it. It keeps me in touch with her as well as them. Tina has figured out by now that I am bringing food, and she rushes to sniff the bag and then comes over and hugs me. I don’t want to give this up.

Tina, the Miller’s long-time farm dog, and I are incredibly fond of one another. She is one of the most remarkable dogs I ever met. She goes wild when she sees me, and I drop to the ground for a round of hugs and kisses. When I first saw Tina, I got her the best available dog food.

Tina is a friend, and friends keep an eye on one another. Whenever I drive onto the Miller farm, Tiny comes running out of nowhere to see me.

The Millers love Tina and take good care of her, but their notions of dog rearing a dog and mine are, of course, different. Amish dogs are not furbabies or surrogate children. They are working dogs.

Animal rights fanatics message me almost daily to insist that the Amish are cruel to their animals, but I have seen no evidence of that. Tina is loved, and their horses are well fed, given rest, and get to graze on green pasture or eat fresh hay.

Their horses do work hard, as horses have done for humans for many thousands of years.

The Amish understand the importance of having healthy horses, and I have never seen one of their horses abused, underfed, or mistreated. In their way, the animal rights groups messaging me about Tina are your basic bigots. Because some Amish families in some places run shappy dog breeding programs or overwork their horses, they assume all Amish families must be guilty of the same thing.

Honesty and fairness are not priorities of many animal rights groups that I’ve met; they feed off the idea that people are generally enemies of animals and ought to be separated from them.

I was talking to Moise the other day – we seem to be spending more time together lately. I asked him if they had any dog food left. I’ve been preoccupied with medical drama this summer and forgot to ask. Moise looked at me curiously – the idea of buying dog food for Tina was strange to him.

He doesn’t quite get why she can’t eat the food that they eat, and she does look healthy and full of energy. He is, at the same time, grateful to me for bringing her the best food and appreciative of it. The Amish have their ways. But he never tried to discourage me from bringing food for Tina, and he would if it bothered him. He is just getting out of the way.

But Tina is getting old and has only three legs to run on, and I believe she needs high protein and grain-based food for energy and stamina. Burning hot and freezing cold, Tina is always out there running, guarding the children, protecting the farm, and keeping coyotes and predators at bay.

The Amish work hard, as does Tina, who almost always can be found around the farm, guarding the grandchildren or chasing after tractors.

I’ve talked to the vet about Tina, and we agreed on the highest quality Purina Sensitive Skin and Stomach kibble, made especially for active dogs getting older and perhaps lacking enough nutrition and protein in their diets.

I respect the Amish and my friend Moise, and I understand that this kind of dog care is simply out of their culture. Moise loves Tina, and so does the family, and I took on the responsibility of ensuring she gets the best food possible for an older dog who works this hard and has three legs.

This particular food is expensive, the best available for Tina; at a different time, I bought it for Red or Frieda when they got older.

Tina has been thriving on I; she has excellent energy and intelligence. She has a great heart and we have connected with each other.

I am glad to have the chance to feed her and support her health.