Winchester’s own ‘Macaw Whisperer’

|

Estimated time to read:

6–9 minutes
Brit Scarlet, Skittles, and Lacey, three of Brit Reese's eleven macaws. (Photo by Pete Koutoulas)with three of his colorful macaws. (Photo by Pete Koutoulas)

If you live in Central Kentucky and get out much, you may have seen a guy walk­ing around town or at area fes­ti­vals with col­or­ful birds perched on his shoul­ders. Brit Reese — a Winchester res­i­dent who moved here from Washington State two years ago — loves his birds, and he loves get­ting to know his new community.

“I like get­ting out,” Brit says, “I love to meet oth­er peo­ple and let them see these beau­ti­ful birds that I have. I have eleven of them. The birds and the fes­ti­vals . . .  are def­i­nite­ly a big hob­by of mine.

“These are great birds to come out and vis­it with peo­ple, go to fes­ti­vals with them, take pic­tures, go to nurs­ing homes and schools, and all of our functions.”

I met up with Brit recent­ly at Legacy Grove Park, one of the spots around town where he can often be found along with his beau­ti­ful, feath­ered friends. He brought along three of his macaws: Lacey, his youngest bird at four years, is pri­mar­i­ly blue and blue-green with gold patch­es. Skittles, age 27, and Scarlet, his old­est, at 52, are both scar­let col­ored, with shades of blue, green, and yel­low on their wings.

Surprised at Scarlet’s age, I asked if 52 was old for a macaw.

“No, she’s on the upper end of mid­dle age. They can live to be about 60, 70, even 80 years. The big­ger birds tend to have very long lifespans.”

And macaws are def­i­nite­ly big birds!

I was also sur­prised at how well-behaved Brit’s macaws are. Other than a bit of beak-fight­ing when they got too close, the birds spent the entire hour we were togeth­er perched calm­ly in a tree — or on Brit’s shoul­ders and arms. I even took a turn play­ing macaw perch. I was amazed they didn’t just fly away.

Obviously, that kind of behav­ior comes after a lot of train­ing, patience, and a mishap or two. Brit showed me a bruise on his arm where he had got­ten “pinched” by one of his birds. He blamed that on his own inattention.

Scarlet, Skittles, and Lacey, three of Brit Reese's eleven macaws. (Photo by Pete Koutoulas)
Scarlet, Skittles, and Lacey, three of Brit Reese’s eleven macaws. (Photo by Pete Koutoulas)

One of his birds, Coco — a blue and gold macaw like Lacey — got away from him in August.

“We were out­side my home tak­ing some nice pic­tures . . . I put him in a tree and went inside to grab Lacey to bring her out. At the very moment that I went inside, he took off and he flew up and over my front door out­side and end­ed up being out­side for a cou­ple days.”

Brit post­ed about the miss­ing macaw on his Facebook page. It became a com­mu­ni­ty effort to locate Coco and return him home safely.

“I knew he was safe. I’d made my ini­tial post because I had lost sight of him for a cou­ple of hours. And from there, I got sight of him again. It was just a mat­ter of wait­ing him out until he was final­ly tired and hun­gry enough to come down. We had good weath­er, so I wasn’t wor­ried about him up there.”

There were a few sight­ings, most­ly near Brit’s home, but sev­er­al attempts to get Coco down from trees failed, as he would get spooked and fly to a dif­fer­ent loca­tion. Eventually, Coco got tired of fly­ing from tree to tree and became sta­tion­ary long enough for Brit to climb up and get him out.

Brit talks to his three macaws. The birds respond to his commands, and each has a wide vocabulary. (Photo by Pete Koutoulas)
Brit talks to his three macaws. The birds respond to his com­mands, and each has a wide vocab­u­lary. (Photo by Pete Koutoulas)

I asked Brit how he made it to Winchester all the way from the upper West Coast.

“My son had bought prop­er­ty over in Owingsville and I was ready for a new start in life. So, I moved out this way. I didn’t come out here with a job or any­thing like that. I chose Winchester main­ly because it had a lit­tle bit of every­thing that I was look­ing for in a town with­out being Lexington and with­out being some lit­tle itty bit­ty tiny town that had noth­ing . . . This is a real­ly nice com­mu­ni­ty that, you know, I real­ly like.”

How did he get inter­est­ed in own­ing birds?

“I got into these birds because of my ex-wife; she had always want­ed a large bird, and we had a friend who worked at a res­cue sanc­tu­ary in Washington State. We went down to vis­it, and she decid­ed that she want­ed to bring one home. And, of course, when she got one, well, hey, I’ll get one too. And my one turned into two, and then it turned into four. And then, when I moved out here from Washington, I came here with the four big macaws and the two African Greys, and since I’ve been here, I’ve got five more birds.”

The birds’ nat­ur­al habi­tat is the trop­i­cal rain­forests of Central and South America: Guatemala, Venezuela, Nicaragua, Honduras, and Costa Rica. As such, they can’t sur­vive out­doors in Kentucky year-round. So Brit, like oth­er trop­i­cal bird own­ers, keeps his macaws indoors.

“Yeah, my birds are on the inside. They have about 1,000 square feet of my house. They are cage-free, and there are chal­lenges of hav­ing cage-free macaws. You’ve got to make sure that you have things for them to do. They [need] things to chew on and places to go pot­ty from.

“You have to have a good habi­tat for them so they don’t destroy your house. I mean, I have a grand piano inside that room with them, and they have nev­er touched it.”

All eleven of Brit Reese's macaws, in their home. They have 1,000 square feet of space in Reece's home all to themselves. (Photo via Brit Reese's Facebook page)
All eleven of Brit Reese’s macaws, in their home. They have 1,000 square feet of space in Reese’s home all to them­selves. (Photo via Brit Reese’s Facebook page)

Another chal­lenge is keep­ing the ani­mals ade­quate­ly fed. For that, Brit can’t run down to the store and buy a big bag of bird chow. Instead, he makes all the birds’ food him­self from fresh ingre­di­ents. And their main ingre­di­ent sur­prised me: spicy peppers!

“One of the best foods that they can have is these types of hot pep­pers. It’s all ‘fresh chop,’ as we call it. I nor­mal­ly mix about 30 or 40 dif­fer­ent veg­eta­bles. I chop it up and pre­pare it for them. I’ll make a 100-pound batch at a time, and it will last about four to six weeks. Preparing fresh food for them is cheap­er than buy­ing some­thing that’s processed — and it is def­i­nite­ly bet­ter for them. I know that my birds’ col­ors are much more pro­nounced when they have that type of food ver­sus when they have any of the processed pel­let-type stuff.”

If all of this care, feed­ing, and train­ing sounds like a time-con­sum­ing and quite dif­fi­cult chal­lenge, it cer­tain­ly is. Brit empha­sized that own­ing even one of these big birds is a major com­mit­ment — and one that lasts a lifetime.

“The main thing with these birds is that they are dif­fi­cult [to care for]. To have them is not some­thing that any­body should take light­ly. Don’t just go out and get one because they see me with them run­ning around with them. They are a lot of work, and there are a lot of prob­lems that can happen.

Never miss a thing with our FREE weekly newsletter.

“With these birds, when peo­ple don’t give them all the atten­tion they need, you will have prob­lems. And they live a long time. With these birds, you need to have well-thought-out ben­e­fi­cia­ry plans if you die because the bird is going to out­live you. 

“And they’re expen­sive! That’s the oth­er thing. You know, they may look great, but they’re very expen­sive. For exam­ple, Skittles is an $8,000 bird.”

I can see how much care, nur­tur­ing, and mon­ey must be expend­ed to acquire and care for these beau­ti­ful ani­mals. But I can also see Brit’s love and pride in these mag­nif­i­cent birds.

Near the end of our con­ver­sa­tion, Brit had me stand still with my arms out­stretched while he care­ful­ly placed all three birds on my shoul­ders and arms. I must admit, I felt a bit uncom­fort­able ini­tial­ly, nev­er hav­ing been a large bird own­er — or a pirate. But I quick­ly got accus­tomed to the feeling.

They real­ly are amaz­ing crea­tures. Be sure to check out Brit’s Facebook page and watch for him and his prized com­pan­ions at a local fes­ti­val or just roam­ing around a local park.

The author, admittedly a bit squeamish, nevertheless agrees to host the three macaws for a few moments. (Photo by Brit Reese)
The author, admit­ted­ly a bit squea­mish, nev­er­the­less agrees to host the three macaws for a few moments. (Photo by Brit Reese)
Please share this story!