The faded red barn in Edgewater, British Columbia stands quietly against the backdrop of the Rockies, a scene that might once have seemed pastoral. Now, it’s ground zero for what has become an unlikely flashpoint in conversations about animal welfare across the province.
Inside and around this structure, approximately 200 ostriches have lived since their rescue from a failed farming operation last December. The birds, some standing nearly eight feet tall with their distinctive black-and-white plumage, have inadvertently united strangers in an urgent grassroots movement after the provincial government announced plans to euthanize the entire flock.
“I’ve never seen anything like this response,” says Melissa Howard, who drove seven hours from Prince George to join weekend demonstrations outside the property. “People who’ve never met are coordinating carpools, bringing supplies, and standing for hours in the cold. These birds have touched something in us.”
The birds were initially seized by the BC SPCA after being abandoned by their former owner, who reportedly fled the property as financial troubles mounted. The province’s Ministry of Agriculture has been caring for the animals since then at a reported cost of nearly $65,000 per month.
Last week’s announcement that the birds would be culled rather than rehomed drew immediate backlash. Officials cited concerns about potential avian influenza risks and the challenges of safely transporting such large, stress-prone birds.
What officials perhaps didn’t anticipate was how quickly communities would mobilize.
In the valley town of Invermere, just minutes from the farm, Sophie Gallant has transformed her café into what she calls an “ostrich crisis center,” where volunteers coordinate shifts for the demonstrations that have grown daily since the announcement.
“Our guest book has signatures from Victoria, Edmonton, even Seattle,” Gallant tells me, pouring coffee for two women who arrived at dawn. “Most people arriving have no background in animal activism. They’re just regular folks who found this decision unconscionable.”
The provincial government maintains that the cull represents the most humane option for birds that have already endured significant stress. Dr. Rayna Henderson, a veterinarian with the Ministry of Agriculture, explained that transporting ostriches requires specialized equipment and expertise that simply isn’t available on the necessary scale.
“These are not domesticated animals in the traditional sense,” Henderson stated in a media briefing. “They’re easily stressed, can injure themselves during transport, and present unique challenges even for experienced handlers.”
But sanctuary owners across North America have publicly challenged this assessment. The Canadian Farm Sanctuary Network has identified at least five facilities willing to take portions of the flock, including two in Alberta that already house rescued ostriches.
Karyn Wills, who operates Blue Mountain Wildlife Sanctuary near Calgary, has experience rehabilitating ostriches and disputes the government’s position. “Yes, they require specialized care, but the obstacles aren’t insurmountable with proper planning. What’s lacking is political will, not solutions.”
The story has resonated far beyond British Columbia’s borders. A petition on Change.org has gathered over 192,000 signatures in just four days. Celebrities including wildlife expert Jack Hanna and Canadian singer Sarah McLachlan have shared support for rescue efforts on social media platforms.
For Indigenous communities in the region, the situation has additional dimensions. “We believe all life deserves respect and consideration,” says Thomas Manuel, an elder from the Ktunaxa Nation, who has joined the demonstrations. “Just because these birds aren’t native to these lands doesn’t mean their lives are disposable.”
Economic perspectives have entered the conversation as well. While ostrich farming never gained significant traction in Canada, some agricultural economists suggest humanely rehoming these birds could create educational opportunities about sustainable farming models.
“This situation represents failures at multiple levels of our food system,” explains Dr. Elaine Wong, who studies agricultural economics at the University of British Columbia. “Instead of destroying these animals, we could be using this moment to reconsider how we approach livestock farming in environmentally and ethically conscious ways.”
The provincial government hasn’t been entirely unmoved by the public response. On Tuesday, officials announced a two-week pause on the planned cull to “explore alternative solutions,” though they caution that euthanasia remains the most likely outcome.
For those gathered outside the farm, this temporary reprieve offers hope while underscoring the urgency of their efforts. Volunteer Elizabeth Shore abandoned her camping trip to join the demonstrations after reading about the situation online.
“I’m not an activist or an animal rights person particularly,” Shore admits, adjusting her hand-lettered sign reading ‘Find Another Way.’ “But something about this feels so unnecessary and wrong. If there are sanctuaries willing to take them, why wouldn’t we try? We owe them that much.”
The ostrich, with its distinctive appearance and inability to fly despite massive wings, has long captured human imagination. Now, these particular birds—bewildered survivors of a failed agricultural venture—have become powerful symbols in a broader conversation about our responsibility toward animals in our care.
As temperatures drop and another evening approaches in Edgewater, the gathering outside the farm grows rather than diminishes. Headlights illuminate more vehicles arriving, people stepping out with thermoses and blankets, prepared for another night of bearing witness.
“I’ll stay as long as it takes,” Howard says, accepting a cup of hot tea from a stranger who has become a friend. “These birds didn’t ask to be here. The least we can do is fight to give them a future.”
