Something about being four years old makes it impossible to walk at a moderate pace.
Maeve is constantly either squatting down to look at something, or running. There doesn't seem to be a happy medium. And so, now that she has to take near-daily walks with me while I perambulate the dog, I now sound like a super-nagging mother when we go out. Maeve, catch up with us, please. Maeve, let's MOVE. Maeve, we're waiting for you! Which is interspersed with: Patches, HEEL!
The same appears to be true of getting ready to go somewhere. If she's really motivated to go, she will cruise quickly through putting on her shoes, going to the bathroom, etc. But if she even slightly isn't interested in her destination, or even if she is and she's just feeling perverse, she will sit on the stairs and bemoan her pathetic existence, pretend not to know how to put on shoes, be furious at offers for help, and generally cause a two minute activity to take twenty loud minutes.
I seem to remember a Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle story about a kid who goes terminally slow all the time, I can't remember what she did to cure him, though. Maybe I'd better do some research.