Simi Valley Planning Panel Says Llamas Can Stay : Zoning: The pack animals, said to be smelly and a danger to horses who are nervous around them, are allowed to stay in prestigious equestrian communities.

Somehow, despite an organized effort to run them out of Simi Valley, and the blistering remarks about how they smell and their bad teeth, and the jeers about their funny looks, Greg Dames’ lowly llamas appear wholly unfazed.

Never mind that Dames’ neighbors asked the city to classify the beasts far below the lofty horse, down somewhere with barnyard and circus animals.

Forget the storm whipped up in two of Simi Valley’s prestigious equestrian communities this week over the presence of the sturdy South American pack animals--with their camel-like heads and long necks--in territory zoned for horses and ponies.

The llamas mean no harm to anyone, owner Greg Dames said.

Yet, residents of the Bridle Path Homeowners Assn. asked the Simi Valley Planning Commission on Wednesday night to exclude llamas from their neighborhood, an area crisscrossed by horse paths and peppered with stables.

After pleas from the Dames and another llama owner, Maxwell Pelter, to spare their back-yard pets, three commissioners voted unanimously to include the beasts among the animals allowed in Simi Valley’s horse country.

The two-hour meeting pitted Dames and Pelter against their neighbors, who contended that the presence of llamas in a horse-only zone would diminish property values and pose a threat to children riding on skittish horses.

Commissioners listened intently as the arguments unfolded.

Penny Wilson, secretary of the Bridle Path Homeowners Assn., said it was not a question of the animal’s curious looks.

“This issue has nothing to do with how cute or sweet or wonderful the llamas are,” Wilson said. “Our community was created to be exclusively equine. No matter what anyone says, the llama is still a member of the camel family.”

Wilson and neighbor Marlane Gregoire argued that a horse plodding down one of the area’s dirt riding paths would be spooked if it came across a llama.

“My horses are terrified of the llamas,” Gregoire said. “If someone less experienced were to come across a llama on the bridle path, they could get thrown.”

The neighborhood fought for the horse zone expressly to avoid run-ins with farm animals, she said. Simi Valley has another zoning classification where people can keep any kind of animal.

“Maybe it makes us sound like snobs, but the horse zone is an elite area,” Gregoire said.

After Gregoire spoke, Janet McKinney rose to tell the commissioners about her experience with the llamas. “I am the only person who has to work right next to the llamas,” said McKinney, whose complaints seven months ago sparked the neighborhood feud. “I can tell you they have a very distinct odor and the wind pushes it right into my yard.”

In letters to the commission, McKinney and her husband complained that the llamas spit, and argued that in buying the strange animal, the Pelters were creating an “Old McDonald’s Farm” in their own back yard.

The attacks left Pelter and Dames cringing in their seats.

If llamas had been in the chamber to hear these attacks, Dames said the docile animals’ feelings would have been hurt.

Earlier in the week, as he shoveled straw into feeding bins for his 11 llamas, Dames explained how he came to purchase this animal that looks less like a horse than it does a creation of Dr. Seuss.

On a packing trip some friends offered Dames the chance to visit a llama ranch. Despite only having seen mention of the beasts in a Doctor Doolittle book, Dames dropped more than $1,000 on the table and bought one.

“We saw one being born and I became really enthused. I had just turned 40 and the llamas just seemed to fill a gap in my life,” Dames said. “Let’s face it, I fell in love.”

The herd in Dames’ yard grew quickly. Two weeks ago, the birth of a black-haired llama named Whitney brought the number to 11.

Still, the one-acre corral where the llamas wander, occasionally tugging at hay or peering out at passing horses, remains clean and quiet.

The only noise the llamas make is a soft humming noise, and their padded feet allow them to prance across the yard quietly, as if they were wearing slippers.

In an impassioned plea for the creatures, Pres Lovato described his experience as a llama’s next-door neighbor.

“The llamas do not bark, like my neighbor’s dog. They do not smell bad, like the horses. They won’t kick you or bite you,” Lovato said. “To know these simple creatures is to love them.”

Only when Dames sold one of his llamas to Pelter did the anti-llama fever begin to spread.

Unlike Dames, Pelter took his llama out on the bridle path for a walk. Homeowner association secretary Wilson said she began receiving complaints.

And earlier this year, she consulted city officials, who told her that they had agreed in 1987 to permit llamas in the equestrian community. The city argued that a llama could be allowed because it was close in size and temperament to a pony.

“We never had any concerns about this for nearly eight years,” Planning Commissioner Michael Piper said. “So the question that is before us now is essentially, did the city make the right call in 1987? I think they did.”

Commissioner Sherida Simmons said it was clear that horses were easily frightened by many things, not just llamas.

“We’ve heard from someone tonight that her horse was afraid of a head of lettuce,” Simmons said. “I just don’t believe this is a safety issue.”

For Dames and Pelter, the 3-0 verdict was, in a way, confirmation that it was OK to love a llama.

“I don’t know if they’d have an opinion on all this,” Dames said outside the hearing. “But I’m going to give them an extra ration of hay tomorrow to let them celebrate.”

As for Pelter, he plans to take his llama out onto the bridle path for a victory lap.

“We’re going to walk her right over to the Dames’ for a breeding,” Pelter said with a smile. “The more llamas we have in this community the merrier.”