Today is National Bird Day and Canada has never been closer to having our own avian ambassador.

Late last year, the Royal Canadian Geographical Society declared the grey jay its top pick for national bird. They hope to convince Parliament to make the sturdy creature an official national symbol this year, just in time for Canada's 150th anniversary.

Following a countrywide nomination vote and a formal debate, the jay beat out four more famous candidates: the black-capped chickadee, the snowy owl, the Canada goose and the common Loon.

But the bird's win was controversial for many reasons: the spelling of "grey jay" and "whisky jack" (the bird's nickname) ruffled the feathers of Canadian grammarians; the bird isn't featured on our money; it doesn't have "Canada" in its name; it boasts no ties to Harry Potter; and it's pretty clearly less adorable than the plump little chickadee. A recent poll showed half of Canadians surveyed oppose to the pick, while another fifth don't know what to make of it.

So what's a tough little songbird to do on its first National Bird Day in the spotlight? We can only imagine what some other formerly hated Canadian icons might say.

Loonie: Alright, grey jay, don't tell the loon I said this, but I wish you well. When I was newly minted in 1987, I definitely had my detractors. Some dismissed one dollar coins as impractical and poked fun at my nickname — one guy even called me "truly the worst thing the government has come up with!" I mean, haaarsh.

But then I proved more resilient than my paper bill predecessor, I helped ease congestion at fare boxes and vending machines and lost about half a gram in weight so I was easier to carry. Now I'm all over the headlines, the kids love me and I have a flashy new design for Canada's 150th anniversary. So, who's the loonie now?

Toonie: Pffffft. You think you had it bad? When I was introduced in 1995, I was called awkward to handle, harder to store and even goofier in my design and nickname. Some Canadians saw me as little more than extra weight, taunting me by calling me "un-bear-able" and "the polar express to hell!"

You'd think they'd remember how durable and cost effective we coins can be, but no. A good chunk of the Canadian public would have gotten rid of me — but not before trying to pop out my centre! Ouch!

Well, I'm still here and (no offense to my older sibling) I count twice as much. So grey jay, I say: stick around and show 'em what you're worth.

Hey little jay, Maple Leaf here. Look, I turned 50 in 2015 and I can definitely offer some perspective from my position over the hill. (Parliament Hill, no less.)

When Prime Minister Lester B. Pearson introduced me in 1965, we were both booed! Emotions ran so strong that someone even threatened to kill my designer, George Stanley. But Stanley — a war veteran, Rhodes Scholar and former lieutenant-governor of New Brunswick — had a lot of courage and foresight. He predicted that I would be accepted within a generation.

He was mostly right, my fine feathered friend. I've been sown onto backpacks, launched into space and flown at the top of Mount Everest! But no matter what I do, truth is some people will never accept me.

I find solace in the importance of national symbols, the art and culture I inspire and the drawings of little children who don't know what the fuss is all about. Come fly with me sometime.

Oh, believe me kid: I understand the high-stakes horse race all too well.

I am the descendant of two stallions and 20 mares sent over by King Louis XIV of France in 1665. I arrived on this continent well before Canada was even a concept, earning my keep on farms and over long journeys, and even as cavalry during the American Civil War.

But by 1976, there were fewer than 400 of my kind. And so when this old bangtail joined the beaver as an official national symbol in 2002, I had high hopes of thriving once again. Unfortunately, many Canadians have never even heard of me — never mind been moved to save me from the verge of extinction. In some ways, I envy the attention controversy brings.

But I don't mean to be grim, little fella. The honour did help bring our numbers up to about 2,000. And I'll probably get some good work during the sesquicentennial year.

I hear your kind has also had a tough run because of habitat destruction and climate change. Who knows? Maybe when humans stop tweeting their outrage about your nomination, they'll use that same energy to keep you alive and well.

Personally, I think they bet on the right bird. Forward, little friend.