BEING a veteran of Casualty I had high hopes for 24/7 Pet Hospital (BBC1, Monday-Friday). The new reality series is filmed at Wear Referrals, a specialist care unit by day and an A&E by night. How exciting.

Sure enough, people ran about and someone said “Code red, code red”. A medic likened orthopaedic surgery to flying a fighter jet (“You’ve got one chance to do it right,” said the clinic's answer to Top Gun).

Except it turns out veterinary staff are much more sensible and far less prone to drama than your average Casualty cast, and the cases they handled tended to be on the, er, mundane side. In Casualty’s 352-year history there have been some boring ailments coming through those swing doors, but I cannot recall anyone being rushed in for eating corn on the cob.

Step forward Hugo, three, and his brother Casper, six months, daft as brushes Boxers who had pounced on the shopping while their human pals were not looking. Four corn on the cobs were missing.

To be fair, this is a bona fide “thing”, the cobs being indigestible and all that. Before you could say “bad dogs” the pair were wearing cones of shame and being prepped for endoscopies. Hugo’s tummy was corn and cob free, but Casper’s was like the veg aisle at Tesco.

Before launching into surgery, always a risk, the team decided to give nature one last chance. One of the nurses was placed on “poop watch” and Caspar duly delivered. We were at least spared the sight of that happening.

In the episode I saw, and this tends to be the case in such programmes, nobody talked cold hard cash. Having a pet costs, and a sick pet even more, but that message too often gets lost in the rush.

I can’t have been the only viewer to approach The Shamima Begum Story (BBC2, Tuesday) reluctantly. It has been eight years since the then 15-year-old Londoner ran away to join Isis and the “victim or villain” arguments have raged ever since.

Investigative journalist Joshua Baker has followed the case from the start. His film told us nothing new, but it set his interviews with Begum alongside sit-downs with others and checked her claims as it went.

It was a scrupulously fair piece of journalism that left viewers to decide for themselves. Yet because it was so “on the one hand, then the other” I doubt many minds were changed.

1923 (Channel 5, Thursday, taster; remainder of series on Paramount+), starred Helen Mirren and Harrison Ford in another prequel to Taylor Sheridan’s neo-Western Yellowstone.

More cowboys, more stetsons, more strong women and proud men prone to declaring war on each other: as formulas go it was good enough for the cinema for long enough and now it’s conquering the small screen.

Mirren plays Cara, the Irish-accented wife of Jacob (Ford), and quite the matriarch and patriarch they make.

Violence has followed the Duttons “from the Scottish highlands to the slums of Dublin” and eventually to Montana, says Cara. It has spread to Africa too, where one of the clan is a big cat hunter.

Between lions abroad, rowdy Scots neighbours at home and the lingering traumas of the First World War, there’s hardly a moment to catch your breath in what is a thrilling ride. Mirren and Ford are terrific, but you probably guessed as much.

I dread to count the victims of Joe Goldberg, the serial killer at the heart of You (Netflix), returning for a fourth series. In many ways, Joe (Penn Badgley) is a real catch. Cultured, smart, would do anything for his favourite gal but, well, there is that murderous side to him.

Joe was last seen in Paris, looking for the lucky woman who got away. Now he is in London, posing as Jonathan Moore, a professor of literature. He seems to have struck it incredibly lucky. Not only do the authorities back in the US think he is dead, he has the loan of a fabulous flat in South Ken and Alison from Ghosts (Charlotte Ritchie) is a neighbour.

It should be a fresh start, so why is he soon dumping the body of one of his new London pals?

The slick writing apart, You works because the character of Joe, a modern-day Jekyll and Hyde, is a classic, and Badgley’s performance is a belter, drawing the viewer reluctantly to his side on the (rare) occasions he does right by doing wrong. I would imagine it was often said on Joe’s school reports that he did not play well with others.

The transfer to London and the beard, making Joe look rather Michael Sheen-ish, are a boost to proceedings, as is the intriguing presence of Rhys (Ed Speelers). Rhys has had a similar hard knock childhood to Joe, he’s a brilliant writer, and he might be running for London mayor. Stranger things have happened.