The grey jay is nicknamed the whisky jack — so it has that in its favour. It’s a derivation of a Cree and Algonquin term for the bird that in English maybe conjures a lovable character from some Yukon gold rush saloon, swilling rye at the end of the bar and telling stories of the strange things done in the midnight sun, or something.

In naming it “Canada’s national bird,” the Royal Canadian Geographic Society listed some of the other qualities that recommend it: it breeds in severe winter temperatures, is the “smartest bird on the planet,” is super friendly, resourceful and in the words of ornithologist David “Yes, that is my real last name, ha ha ha. I’ve never heard that clever joke before” Bird, “epitomizes the average Canadian.”

There are other ways in which this is true: according to a habitat map created by The Cornell Lab and shared on Twitter by economist Mike Moffatt, the grey jay hates Toronto and does not live here or visit the city. How fitting!

And yet, how inconvenient for Torontonians, who now have a symbolic national bird that — like the symbolic “national capital city” — is a grey thing they’ve probably never seen in person and don’t particularly want to. Especially since, after our recently abandoned experiment with camouflaged police cars, we may have an aversion to the colour grey. But it’s fine. “Epitomizes the average Canadian.” Fine. Have another round and tell more stories of the Canadian north, Whisky Jack.

Still, that the national bird doesn’t represent us and doesn’t appear to like us does raise the possibility that we may want to have our own civic bird for Toronto, for use in those municipal situations that call out for the use of a symbolic bird symbol, such as editorial cartooning and answering trivia questions about official symbols and, um, well… all those other ones that come up so often. As a way to begin this pressing local conversation, I suggest some nominees:

Northern Flicker: This variety of woodpecker, fond of foraging for insects in the ground, doesn’t strike me as particularly Torontonian, but is listed as “Toronto’s (un)Official Bird” in a 2010 city report on local winged creatures co-introduced by Margaret Atwood. So it’s already officially (un)Official, whatever that might mean, and it has some hipster qualities: “Males can easily be distinguished… by the distinctive black moustache on their cheek. Their loud, rapid call often described as ‘wik-a-wik-wik-a-wik-a’ is common in early spring.”

Pigeon: They are a common sight in Toronto, are scrappy foragers, love crowding around on city sidewalks and sometimes are spotted wandering obliviously into traffic. Perhaps fittingly, they are already fairly well-associated with New York City, a quality beloved of many Torontonians searching for identity.

Blue Jay: Has the advantage of already being a civic symbol thanks to the beloved baseball team. According to Wikipedia, it is “noisy, bold and aggressive,” like the typical Toronto commuter. On the other hand, tainted by corporate association with a telecommunications giant.

Seagull: Not much to look at — a complaint often heard about typical Toronto architecture — they are known to snatch food out of the air, out of garbage bins, even out of your hand, a quality that lines up with Toronto’s Bay Street “Hogtown” history and reputation.

Swan: All seven species of swan in the world are known to live in the wild in Toronto, according to that 2010 city report. The Ugly Duckling story associated with the swan holds particular appeal for Toronto — as the homely subject of mockery matures into a creature of supreme beauty (though perhaps a little too enamoured of admiring its own reflection.)

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Canada Goose: Pros: Common in Toronto; seems obligatory on a list like this. Cons: sometimes nasty disposition; famously fair-weather-only resident; seems obligatory on a list like this.

Red-Winged Blackbird: A bird known to attack surprisingly and ferociously in defence of its perceived turf, much like the typical Toronto motorist.

Crane: Two varieties of this gawky, long-necked bird reside in Toronto. It is suggested as an official civic bird on Twitter by @ac_eco, because its namesake construction machine virtually defines Toronto’s downtown growth.

Winged unicorn: Not birds, strictly speaking, but these flying creatures are beloved by children and belief in their imminent, joyous arrival nicely parallels the attitudes of Toronto voters towards traffic, transit and taxes (see also: belief system of Toronto sports fans.)

House sparrow: Among the very most common birds in Toronto — as frequently spotted as raccoons or squirrels — they are small and quiet and nondescript and often overlooked. Except once I was eating lunch near the lake and one came up and perched right on my foot and cocked its head to beg politely for a crust of bread, and I looked at the stranger sitting on a bench nearby who was laughing and entirely as surprised and charmed as I was. Toronto is like that sometimes.