Developing My Own Breed Of Large Gamefowl For Free Range Survival (Junglefowl x Liege)

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I snapped a few quick pics out the door this morning. We had a 40 degree temperature drop over night, which is pretty typical for north Florida’s late winters and springs. The chicks seem to be holding up well. The youngest ones are sticking close to the heat plate and the older ones are enjoying the new space.

I am pleased to see how fast Azog can run chasing hens. Pure American Liege generally can’t move fast. Although I am not planning on labeling as such, there is a high likelihood that the current iteration of the terrorfowl could be accurately described as improved Liege.
 
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Azog is still free ranging like a champ. 10 feet seems to be about as high as he can fly. I’ve noticed it seems that it takes at least a couple of weeks of exercise for a rooster who hasn’t been out much to get in the groove of flying.

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The terrorfowl bitties are doing well. Some of them are starting to look hefty.
 
Like the Defiler?
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Yes.

For my terrorfowl line I like references to movie or literary monsters. Azog was named after Azog the Defiler from Tolkien’s Middle Earth mythology. Indo was named after the indoraptor from the Jurassic movies. Yeager, the black aseel (who the next owner renamed Orion), was named after Erin Yeager from the anime series Attack on Titan (who if you watched the series to the end, it would be clear why an insane black attack rooster would fit Yeager).
 
Nice! I must have missed that post. :)
No worries. I don’t expect someone to have read every post of 89 pages. I just posted the quote show you that you were right.

I do actually reflect hard on animal names. Every one has a meaning to me. For example, my bulldog Brunson was names after a distant grandfather of mine from the early-mid 1800s. Brunson Lewis was a Second Seminole War veteran who settled in north central Florida after that war. He was a scoundrel early in life but lost his ill-gotten fortune after he survived a panther attack, the only documented human to have been attacked by a Florida panther to my knowledge. Our family legend was that he was big man who strangled the cat with his hands. In reality he was a short man who beat the cat to death with a fence post, then was bed ridden for months as his body healed of the slicing wounds the panther gave him. Later in life he changed and became a preacher. Surviving the battle with the panther seemed like a fitting name for a tough farm bulldog who’s job is to guard against animal and human threats.

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