Is Canada Even Real?
German Shepherd that travels
from town to town befriending
clowns, rescuing ballerinas, and
foiling gold robbers.
On Thursday, October 11,
1979, The Littlest Hobo (French
title: Le vagabond) premieres on
CTV. The pilot episode begins,
as each episode will, with Terry
Bush’s urban hymn “Maybe
Tomorrow.” While most other
dramas and comedies are shot on
film, The Littlest Hobo is recorded
on hard, cheap, bright videotape,
a medium reserved for ephemeral
(read: disposable) programming.
The opening credits are com-
prised of a modular montage
that shows us, variously, Hobo
trotting down a suburban street,
Hobo running out of the woods,
Hobo in the passenger seat of a
convertible. He does not look
glamorous, even in a convert-
ible. He is all business. But he
is not a business dog. We know
6
this because he wears no tie, no
glasses, has no briefcase. “Just
grab a hat, we’ll travel light,
that’s hobo style,” sings Bush, a
wistful smile in his voice. But
Hobo wears no hat. Not even a
collar. Potentially the least an-
thropomorphized animal to ever
capture the imaginations of both
young and old, this dog never
wears clothes and is known only
as “Hobo,” or by nicknames be-
stowed by his short-term human
companions.
The show’s title appears in
yellow brush-stroke font: The
LITTLEST HOBO. Say “the”;
YELL THE REST.
We see Hobo leading a cow,
Hobo placing a call, Hobo
carrying a rifle. He swims in a
lake, his ears smoothed against
his nape. He is always moving,
always onward. Hobo runs out
of the woods, tongue out, pant-
ing as he serves the scene. The