AVID television watcher that I am, it came as some surprise this week to discover that there are more exciting boxes to have in the house than the one that comes with a remote control. How about a glass tank containing a creature with nine brains, three hearts and blue blood running through its veins? Wouldn’t that beat Pointless for thrills any day of the week? Fair enough, it’s a close run thing.

In Natural World: The Octopus in My House (BBC2, 9pm), Professor David Scheel was living my dream. A marine biologist at Alaska Pacific University, he has studied octopuses for a quarter of a century. It is surprising it has taken him so long to come up with the idea of moving one into his home, but one got the sense, reading between the lines, that the likeable prof had experienced some notable life changes recently. Explaining how he had the space for a large tank, he said: “I got divorced and the ex took some of the living room furniture.” There was a pause. “Most of the living room furniture.” (Bet you’re kicking yourself now, eh Mrs S, missing out on the octopus?) Then there was his 16-year-old daughter, Laurel, who had always wanted a dog. Why not meet in the middle with an octopus? Although it would seem a poor deal, it turned out well. Better than well. The creature, named Heidi because she used to hide a lot, was beautiful, changing colours as the mood took her. She was smart, playful, affectionate (all those suckered arms, reaching out the water to touch Laurel). The prof was similarly smitten, and the three took to watching television together.

There were lots of science bits, about evolution, comparative intelligence and suchlike, but the main joy of the programme was simply watching this fantastic creature. A being of this world yet at the same time out of this world. As the prof pointed out, it was no wonder creators of science fiction often depicted aliens as octopus like creatures, as in the Amy Adams’ movie, Arrival. One other thing we learned is that all that gorgeousness is not around for long: most octopuses only live for a year or two. Best they do it in the wild, then. Memo to self: scratch “have octopus in house instead of telly” from bucket list.

Mind you, with the return of the drama Mindhunter (Netflix) that decision may have to be revisited at some point. Inspired by the true story of the founding of the FBI’s behavioural science unit, the late Seventies-set tale oozes style and class, as one might expect when director David Fincher (Seven, Network, The Social Network), among others, is on the team. The characters of agents Holden Ford, relative newbie, but brilliant with it, and old hand Bill Tench are solid but endlessly surprising, and their job, touring the nation’s jails interviewing serial killers to find out what makes them tick in the hope of catching more, is packed with fascinating moments.

READ MORE: Susan Swarbrick's Screen Shot on Mindhunter

But what a trial it is to get to sleep afterwards. What, for example was the deal with forensic psychiatrist Wendy Carr and the cat in the first season? She kept hearing a mewling in the basement and would leave out some food for kitty. But was there a cat, or was it someone impersonating one to get her attention? I have only watched episode one of the second season and thus far puss has not turned up, in boots or otherwise, but I’m braced for it to happen. Such is the way this series generates an undercurrent of dread in the viewer. You don’t have to be paranoid to watch Mindhunter, but you probably will be at the end of the run.

There was light relief to be had as Stath Lets Flats (Channel 4) made its return. The titular estate agent has to be the most dopey central character since Frank Spencer, and in his own way he is just as lovable (and infuriating). Stath (Jamie Demetriou, who writes the comedy and stars in it alongside sister Natasia) lives to impress his agency-owning father, but it is not an easy task when there are show-offs around like new boss Julian, who makes a company video to mark his arrival. Cue some primo cheesiness, complete with Strictly style dance moves, which is only surpassed for sheer daftness when Stath decides to make his own film. Dad, urged to say which film was the best, had some loving advice for his son: “Maybe don’t try to do anything, ever.”

There was more family bonding in Born Famous: Michelle Mone (Channel 4). The series which sends the children of celebrities back to their parent’s old stomping grounds to see if they can hack the life, continues to be a manipulative, shallow affair, not least because the kids only spend a week away from the high life. A whole seven days, eh? And there were enough Glesga cliches to choke a rag and bone man’s horse.

READ MORE: How did Michelle Mone's daughter get on in Glasgow's east end?

Born Famous has been revealing, though perhaps not in the way intended. The central takeaway so far is that the kids are good spuds who would like to spend more time with their parents and feel their voices were being heard. Same the world over, eh Stath?