TOPANGA : Battle Brews Over Farm’s Ostriches

No question about it, Clint and Eva Stroschein say, ostriches are not only the biggest birds in the world, they’re the dumbest heads in the sand, crushing their young under foot, and with brains the same size as their eyeballs.

What they are not, the couple contends, is smelly, loud or in any way worthy of being at the center of the brouhaha swirling around the O. K. Corral Ostrich Farm on Santa Maria Road, just off Topanga Canyon Boulevard.

“From the day we moved in, it was like a range war,” said Eva, who with Clint manages the farm, a war between a couple of neighbors with more traditional animals and the new bird folk.

The anti-ostrich people contend that they have several concerns about the herd of seven-foot birds in their community. Neighbor Deborah Stern says they scare her horses, and another neighbor claims they keep her up at night. They also complain that the birds are a big tourist attraction and looky-loos are clogging their narrow road.

Nonsense, said Clint Stroschein. If anything, it’s the horses spooking his feathered friends, and when they aren’t being their typically silent selves, “they coo a little bit, like a pigeon.”

The birds can “kick you into the cheap seats,” he admitted, but they are held inside a double-fenced compound and are more often than not scared silly of humans.

The issue that concerns neighbors most, however, is the increase in traffic on the thin ribbon of one-lane Santa Maria Road, as gawkers drive by to see the creatures.

A certain amount of gawking certainly occurs.

On this clear-for-Southern California morning, the 12 adolescent ostriches bounce around the pen on their two-toed feet, snatching at shirts, hats and hands. They uncurl their lithe necks with the grace of Canada geese, and lurch with the coordination of a newborn calf when approached too quickly.

These are being raised as breeders (and can fetch $70,000 a pair) for what ranchers say will be the meat animal of the future. According to the U. S. Department of Agriculture, ostrich meat is lower in fat and cholesterol than either turkey or chicken. The meat is red, and in the words of Eva, tastes “like a filet mignon.”

But as strangely cute, oafishly interesting and fat-free as they might be, the area is “not zoned for ostriches,” said Stern. Los Angeles County planning officials, alerted by neighbors, told owner Doug Osborne that his birds would have to fly, so to speak. Osborne said he would try to have them moved to a new Topanga farm that permits wild animals by mid-May.

“He didn’t move there with the knowledge that he was doing anything wrong,” said planner Michael Bleecher. “He’s been trying to be very compliant.”

While some will be happy to see them go, others say a few sour-grape neighbors are costing others the chance to enjoy the largest birds on the planet.

“Everyone else is intrigued by them,” said K. Saltman, who took her Girl Scout troop to the ranch for a visit.

“I don’t see it as a problem,” said Jean Derek, who manages the nearby Fair Hills Farm Polo Club. “I don’t mind the birds at all.”