The picture of joy above did have his disappointments. He thought he was a lap-dog (probably weighed 35 kilos). He delighted in escaping to find the most luxurious bed in the house – and it took three strong men to drag him off. He could look pathetic if his bedtime choc-drop was late, and, of course, like all Labradors he was seriously undernourished.

So where do we find 'joyful moments'?

There are people like Hellen Keller, Anne Franck, people held hostage for years, concentration camp survivors, whose spirit shines like new stars in the sky. Few of us can aspire to such strength of spirit (although, you never know, luckily few of are asked for such courage – how would we act?)

I am lucky to have gardens – they keep me sane and rational. Those without gardens, and unable to have pets, miss sources of great comfort.

There used to be joy in church services – I remember having children at home and the midwives were Methodists – they looked forward to their church services 'to have a good sing'. It's cheap, gets you together with people – look at the extraordinary success of Gareth Malone and his 'Choir'. Go to a Gospel concert, and the faces are the human equivalent of the dog above.

Moodscopers with access to the sea have spoken of the joy of long walks, never mind the elements.

Music, obviously, figures largely judging by favourite, and comforting, songs mentioned recently.

Can you find real 'joie de vivre' moments in what is a grim scenario for many?

The Gardener.

A Moodscope member

P.S. there is a picture of the same dog even more joyful in deep snow.