A lady called Anne

I complained about having to walk the dog today. It was a warm summer afternoon. The woods are at the bottom of my road. It is beautiful. I am fit and healthy and can walk. I still complained.
On my way back I walked past a house where a lady called Anne lives with her live-in carer. Anne lives in a locked-in world of wheelchair and little communication. On passing her house I could see Anne straining her neck to see who was walking past. She often sits and watches people walking past straining her neck. I walked past too. Then I stopped, turned back and knocked on the door. Anne's carer let me in and I chatted to Anne about her health, her birthday, her cousin and the picture book she was looking at. I held her deformed hand. She seemed pleased to have a visitor.
I bet Anne would love to walk a dog. I bet Anne would love to walk. I bet Anne would like to do lots of things. She can't.
It's good to walk the dog. It's good to be able to walk. And be thankful.