Running with a lamb’s best friend
The figures in the distance look like any regular man out for a night-time jog with his dog.
But as they emerge from the gloom the animal starts jumping and leaping around in a way that not even an excitable puppy would.
Passing under a street light, it becomes clear this is no dog being taken for a run through central Christchurch – it is a little lamb.
It is a hobby electrical engineer Synco Reynders and his young friend share most nights of the week, popping out under cover of darkness to head through the city’s streets, often ending up in Hagley Park, where the lamb will pause for a nibble at a favourite bush or patch of grass.
‘‘The first 10 minutes is just crazy,’’ Reynders said. ‘‘She’s jumping behind you, running, more jumping – she’s very excited, like a little puppy.
‘‘Crossing roads is not a problem at all. As long as we start running she just catches up – you know she is right behind you when you’re running.’’
Reynders adopted the lamb about four weeks ago through a friend of his sister. ‘‘She’s a little orphan,’’ he said. ‘‘Her mother was found dead and she has a twin sister and they were basically picked from the mother.’’
He and his partner, Seh Ling Kwong, took her in, christening her ‘‘Baa-rbara’’ and feeding her a bottle of milk three times a day. The day after arriving at her new home in Barbadoes St, Reynders took her out for a walk on his driveway. ‘‘Then they became little trots and gallops for her, jumping, and then we needed a bit more room so we went across and ran through the cemetery, and before you know it we were on the other side of the city.’’
The pair, occasionally with Kwong, now head out most evenings, generally following the Avon River and jogging through the red zone but sometimes heading to Margaret Mahy Family Playground, Cranmer Square – where she stops for a quick graze – or Hagley Park.
‘‘She finds a really nice plant or bush and doesn’t listen to me for a wee while, but when we walk around she just follows.’’
Staying in the shadows as much as possible means motorists often happily drive past without realising she is a sheep, but other walkers notice the strange pair and stop to chat.
‘‘There are usually one or two stops per night,’’ Reynders said. ‘‘People are always surprised to see a sheep walking around town.’’
Reynders, Kwong and Baa-rbara have become a happy little family – they have taught her the word ‘‘out’’ for when she is in the garage or house, but sometimes she wanders in and watches TV with them before settling down to sleep on a blanket in her spot outside by the back door.
‘‘She doesn’t really follow Netflix but she likes the company,’’ Reynders said.
She has even proven to be a good guard sheep, alerting them to an intruder who broke into their garden in the first week or two after she arrived.
But this happy little friendship looks set to come a bittersweet end, as Baa-rbara will return to the farm in a week or two when she’s independent and feeding solely off grass.
Reynders is reluctant to think about what will happen but hopes she will be used for breeding.
‘‘I’ve become quite attached to her, so I’m just preparing myself for it.
‘‘I’m surprised not more people do this. She doesn’t bring dead birds into the house, she doesn’t bite anyone. The hardest part is going to be giving her back, really.’’