Saturday, March 21, 2026
B177 Has Wings but Forgot How to Use Them
By Alejandro Rigatuso, Fundador y Director de Fundación Loros
In aviario 1, clinging to the wire mesh with the quiet ease of someone who has been still for far too long, the Amazonian parrot B177 FL-VN watches the world from his perch with no particular urge to take flight. Alejandro found him like this late this afternoon: brilliant green plumage with yellow details on the head and red patches on the wings — everything in order, everything intact. The problem isn't in the wings themselves, which are whole and unharmed, but somewhere far harder to see. This parrot simply doesn't fly, or doesn't want to, or no longer quite remembers how.
Captivity leaves that kind of quiet mark. It isn't always about visible wounds or clipped feathers — sometimes it's about a habit that slowly faded away while the days passed, one identical to the next, inside the enclosure. B177 needs someone to convince him that the air still belongs to him. The rehabilitation team will begin working with him on flight stimulation activities, with patience, without hurry — because in this line of work, rushing never does much good.
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.
