Visiting feathered friends has left me all of a flutter

Pigeons last week, this time flamingos – Fiona is flying high but brought down to Earth by naughty dogs who should know better

I am in the pink this week. Filming flamingos at a bird sanctuary just south of Edinburgh.

Bird Gardens Scotland at Oxton is home to 300 feathered friends.

It is run by two conservationists, Owen Joiner and his partner Mark Haillay. Mark is a noted ceramicist with a love of nature. Owen originally trained to be a marine biologist. But as he got seasick when he went out in a boat he decided to turn his attentions from fish to fowl.

This pair have scoured the globe for interesting species that can thrive in Scotland – and their efforts have not been in vain. Here are beaks of all shapes and sizes. Many are rare, or endangered. And some are definitely more colourful than others.

We are there to film four newly hatched flamingo chicks. Or flaminglings as they are called. Flaminglings. It is quite a mouthful. And these tiny creatures are constantly open-mouthed.

They are squeaking away and waiting impatiently for the next round of milk and minced insect, or whatever revolting concoction there is in the tiny feeding tube.

These baby birds are cute and fluffy. But, disappointingly, they are not pink. For, like cygnets and swans, it will be a couple of years before they can take on their parents’ colour.

Eating algae and other tiny creatures will eventually help them turn that magnificent hue. And the rosier they get, the better it is. For pink is power and the brightest-coloured birds will be the leaders in a colony.

The flamingo is a remarkable bird. It can live up to 70 years. It can tell if rain is coming from hundreds of miles away.

And, imagine being able to stand for all that time on one spindly leg…

I don’t know. Filming pigeons last week. This week flamingos.

I am becoming quite an expert. Something of an ornithologist. Which would not suit everyone.

I once knew a girl who was terrified of anything with wings. Ornithophobia is rare. Yet millions of us will suffer from a terrible fear at some stage in our lives.

For some it is spiders. Which is arachnophobia. For others, it is dogs. Cynophobia is the technical term.

And I know that some have had a bad canine experience.

Which I am very sorry for. As are the Macnaughties. Who apologise for their fellow hounds and are curled around my feet as I write.

Today butter would not melt in their doggie mouths. Both are old boys now. One 11, the other 12.

They are old enough to know better. But still not senior enough to be sensible. Yesterday the spaniel decided to carry all his soft toys into the garden

And the rosier they get, the better it is. For pink is power and the brightest-coloured birds will be the leaders in a colony

and deposit them under various bushes. While the naughty Norfolk looked nonchalantly on.

It is annoying and my mother’s words of wisdom keep coming back to me. Stop acting like a flamingo. Yes, I must put my foot down…

Fiona gets up close and personal with flamingos at the Oxton bird sanctuary.