That is, the little guy was constantly underfoot, over foot, wrapped around feet, and not even on his own feet, as he bounced up and down in hopes someone would pick him up.
A Golden Retriever.
Pace wasn't a problem. He could more than keep up, traveling at a lovely trot that sadly will go away once he gets big enough to find that gait doesn't work with such pokey humans.
(It wasn't pretty)
More than once, my reflexes were tested as little sit-and-stare decided to jump in front of me, stop dead, and (I'm not kidding) sit and stare.
(That also wasn't pretty)
Thankfully, all that was (mostly) just a phase - especially the pogo-ing and careening part, and he can now walk (almost bravely) past raising garage doors, closing front doors, and barking dogs (mostly).
Tonight was his best night yet, for not only did he (mostly) stay on the sidewalk, he (mostly) walked straight ahead. He even had stretches when he (mostly) walked beside me - of his own accord!
(I've never had a dog want to walk beside me before. It's a rather novel experience, one I rather much enjoyed, however temporary the phenomenon might be.)
I still want to get him a no-pull harness. Zachary prefers his harness to a collar, and so it seems only fair to give Henry the same choice. (Zachary is convinced that collars are for lesser creatures, and always seems quite offended when I actually put a real one on him.)