Dogging my footsteps

After doing my household chores this morning, I now have first-hand experience with the phrase "dogging my footsteps."

I vacuumed the downstairs and Bogie followed behind me every step I took, frequently standing on the electrical cord.

I mopped the floor to remove the muddy footprints and dirt clods left behind by Angel when she dug up a cherished rawhide.  Bogie watched every swipe of the mop, from in front of me.  I kept asking him to move out of the way.  He followed me to the sink every time I rinsed the mop.

I sanded a new window sill on the family room window.  This involved moving the end table and easy chair from in front of the windows.  Not once, but twice, Bogie followed me behind the furniture, getting tangled up in the cords and knocking the stereo speaker off the table.  (To be honest, I knocked it off once myself, whereupon I left it on the floor until I was done.)

Upstairs to mop the bathroom floor.  I rinsed the mop in the bathtub and he stuck his face in the tub to watch.  I tried to open the closet door and he was standing in front of it.  But he moved when prompted.

Every step I took, he was right beside me.  Which is sweet.

And a little annoying.