I think I owe a good deal of my nomadic existence to a kid’s television program from the 80’s called The Littlest Hobo.
It was basically Lassi On the Road as this Alsation dog travels from town to town getting in scrapes, helping the unfortunate and catching bad guys. The hero never says a word beyond a helpful bark or two but with a twitch of the ears, sniffing at the right doorway as a cop passes or stealing someone’s gun, he always saves the day.
But just as the kid in question (it takes an innocent eye to recognize such a diamond in the rough as this helpful vagabond) asks his mother/elder brother/grandpa, Gee, do you think we could keep him?
I don’t know son, looks like he’s already on his way! they invariably reply and the camera pans over to the Alsation who’s standing on the crest of the road, giving one last fond look before heading off into the sunset.
Then we all gulp down a tear at the poetry of the scene as this dog – who would be welcome anywhere for his noble character and problem-solving skills in a tight spot – and who yet can’t bring himself to make a home anywhere.
Cut to the title song:
Maybe tomorrow, I’ll think about settling down,
Until tomorrow, I’ll just keep moving on.
With media imprinting like that, what chance did I have?