Bruce . . . isn't! [updated]

We've gotten very used to thinking of our Cockatiel as male, so his her decision to finally establish his her sexual identity has come as a bit of a shock -- perhaps as much to him her as to the rest of us. The outing is unmistakable, though -- nothing says "hen" quite like the little come-hither dance he she has been performing for the last few weeks. Sigh.

Now before anyone launches into a dissertation on Cockatiel morphology and sexual dimorphism in general, here is something you need to know:




Yup. Cinnamon Pearl Pied, as in "Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah -- you can't sex me!" Not by feathering, anyway, and we're frankly too cheap to bother with the DNA test. We went with behavior . . . yeah . . . and a lot of wishful thinking. (Hey, I was a Philosophy major, okay? I had very good reasons for wanting a "Bruce"!)

So we always knew this day might come -- the standard line was "If he lays an egg, we'll change his name to Sheila!" And there were warning signs -- his her complete lack of mimicry should have tipped me off . . . if I hadn't been so determined. But it's still taking time to sink in.

And now we come to the really tricky bit, because no one wants to call him her "Sheila" -- it won't do!

Update: I meant to work this in somewhere -- had the earworm all day, but I plumb forgot:



(See what I mean? Still in denial!)