IT was the contest of the decade, the supreme battle for hearts and minds, the thriller that was not in Manila … no, not the General Election, that’s happening in a parallel universe far, far away from this one. (Or at least that’s what we’ll tell ourselves, right?) Back on Earth, all sensible folk were watching the deeply serious business of Me and My Dog: The Ultimate Contest (BBC2, Wednesday, 8pm), which this week reached the grand final.

After four weeks of hell in the Lake District – oh, all right, a bit of mud – there were just three places left in the triathlon final for humans and their dogs. To bag a place, the remaining dogs had to pass an intelligence test that involved identifying toys from photos. Hopes were not high for Flapjack, the golden Labrador whose human, Toni, once loyally said that if you looked in one ear when he was sleeping you could see straight through to the carpet below. But dang it all if Flapjack didn’t lollop his way to the final.

There were further shocks to come regarding Flapjack’s IQ. For a start, he had one. Moreover, tests showed that far from being thick, Flapjack was something of a smarty pants who was just being wrongly motivated. By training him with the thing he loves most in life, grub, he could be taught to do complex tasks, such as pass up one treat knowing he would get a better one later on. “I feel really bad now,” said the treacherous Toni. As well you might, madam. Flapjack for Prime Minister!

All creatures great and small were back in The Durrells (STV, Sunday, 8pm), the sun-dappled and simply smashing comedy drama set on Corfu. The gang were where we left them after the first series: Gerry the junior naturalist was still collecting animals, Larry writing, Leslie as daft as people thought Flapjack was, Margo man mad, and widowed mum Louisa (Keeley Hawes) trying desperately to jolly everyone along and put food on the table.

This is a treat of a programme, being funny and delightful on the surface while a peculiarly English sort of sadness lurks underneath. The Durrells’ Corfu looks like paradise, but surviving on the island with very little money is a tough gig, with sometimes nothing more to keep a body going but the sheer determination not to have to go home a failure.

Similar motivations were at work in First Dates (Channel 4, Tuesday, 10pm). Among those dreaming of meeting a special someone this week were Raymon, who at 90 was the reality show’s oldest ever participant. He met Cecilia, a retired civil servant whose age was “undisclosed”. Other hopefuls included a labourer turned model with a thing for Barbie-type girls who duly met a Barbiesque PA; a legal executive tired of bad boys who dined with a nice chap; a youthful granny; an Oasis fan; and a 21-year-old who said she would just love to be loved. The matchmakers behind First Dates are excellent at their jobs, but there is no accounting for the foibles of flesh and blood humans so nothing is guaranteed. That’s the beauty of the show. Fred, the very French and oh so charming maitre d’, is a bit of a dish too.

One could call Scotland’s Superhospital (BBC1 Scotland, Monday, 9pm) a fly on the wall documentary series, but that sounds unhygienic so we won’t. Incredibly, because it seems like only yesterday that it opened, Glasgow’s Queen Elizabeth University Hospital is now two years old. In this, the first of three visits, the patients followed by the cameras included a teenager with cancer, a baby with a cleft lip, and a road accident casualty flown in by helicopter who was hovering between life and something infinitely worse. You didn’t need to have a box of handkerchiefs handy to soak up the sobs, but it would have helped.

The NHS has its faults, and the Queen Elizabeth’s in particular has been no stranger to the papers since it opened. Moreover, with this type of documentary, dependent as it is on access, you too often see what the hospital wants you to see. Those health warnings aside, Scotland’s Superhospital was a reminder that what the health service does in this country can be little short of miraculous. As for the staff who look after patients, many are called upon to go above and beyond more times in a day than most of us are called on in a lifetime. It would be a foolish politician indeed who would mess with any of this.

And that was a non-party political broadcast on behalf of the NHS and all of us who use it. Now back to the election. Boo.