By Alejandro Rigatuso, Fundador y Director de Fundación Loros
It was Omar who first noticed it: yuca stalks cut down across several sectors of the reserve, and what appeared to be viscera left scattered among the vegetation. Alejandro received the report and headed out to investigate. In the field, a neighboring farmer — Yego — approached in good faith to explain that he himself had been moving through the area, and wanted them to know, so no suspicion would fall on him. His warning arrived just in time to begin piecing the puzzle together.
The question that lingered in the air was who — or what — was behind the damage. The clues point in several directions: it could be a tigrillo, a hawk, or one of the owls that frequent those sectors. Nothing ruled out just yet.
The survey yielded two concrete conclusions: a small caretaker's shelter is needed in that area, along with a guard dog to deter predators. And metal sheeting must be fitted to the trees and enclosures, to make access more difficult. The reserve now has new eyes thanks to neighbors like Yego — but it also needs defenses of its own.
About the author
Alejandro Rigatuso · Fundador y Director de Fundación Loros
Alejandro Rigatuso arrived at Fundación Loros after years as Vice President of Growth Marketing at Toptal, bringing with him an unconventional perspective: he knows an animal is well by its eyes, "bright, wide open." Lorenzo, the first parrot released, recaptured several times and always set free to fly again, marked him forever. At dusk, around five-thirty, you'll find him at the Mirador de las Ciénagas or wandering around Cerro El Peligro, envisioning observation towers and hundreds of native parrots soaring over a reserve that an entire community calls their own.
