At least two things have caused me to examine myself very carefully recently. One of which is the season of Christmas that we are about to enter, and the other is my dog, Frodo.

Frodo is a brilliant and loyal lurcher. He lives to chase the wind and for that matter anything else that moves. It was a hammer blow to discover that he had bone cancer in his back leg. We were left in no doubt that the options were to remove the leg, because it would shatter should he feel the need to chase something or jump on or off the sofa, or to have him put to sleep. We were not ready to have him put down, so he went through an operation to amputate. Within an hour, he was stood up. He jumps in and out of the van and can hop, skip and jump around the garden after his brother. The two things I have learnt are both about me.

The first is that I struggled with what the dog looked like. Vets like fairly aggressive shaving, but I was unsure what people would think of him and me. In a year of paralympian greatness, here I was struggling with having a canine companion that has a disability. I was very shocked.

The second is more obvious, but equally as telling. Frodo still bounces up to me in the morning to greet me. As far as I know he has no particular angst as to what he looks like. Indeed most of the time, I am quite happily adopt a scruffy state myself.  Just as importantly, he still chases the wind and lives for the moment. I have much to learn from him.

I trust this Christmas time will help us all to look at ourselves, our opinions and where necessary re-examine them.