Mate, if your cat can’t tolerate your girlfriend, then you’ve got more to worry about than your whistle-playing!
I think he meant his cat can tolerate the whistle more than his girlfriend can tolerate the whistle 
Spelling and punctuation count.
Jawhol Herr!
I’m not english, how well can you spell dutch?
My green bird (conure) likes to yell when I play any wind instrument. I think it excites her and she wants to join in the fun. Birds like noise, you know.
If I play a D whistle, my white bird (cockatoo) will reach over from my shoulder and gently try to pull my fingers off the whistle. She doesn’t mind the lower whistles and flutes.
Both birds, if they get the chance will opt to sit on my right hand as I play my flute, right on my fingers if they can. The big white bird is quite heavy and it messes with my ability to play. The green bird’s not too heavy but she’ll start biting my fingers if I play a lot of fast notes with my right hand. It’s messing with her perch, you know.
Also, the green bird will start ruining things in close proximity if I play too much without paying her enough attention. So basically, with all that, the sound of me playing is like this:
Dum-dee diddledee-dee “NO! Stop that!” diddledee-dum de-dum “Ow! Stop it!” dum-dee-dum-dee-diddledee dee “No, don’t ruin that you creepy bird!” etc.
I wonder what Irish music sounds like without a bird yelling in my ear or eating my toothpaste.
I still speak a little high
-school German. Close enough? Ok, didn’t mean to be nasty. I’ve been in the Netherlands, and the German was not appreciated. Anyway, we “English” like to have fun with our words.
Capital D..utch….Der Doktor ist heraus!
I wondered how long it was going to be before someone made this joke. It took a lot longer than I’d expected it would! 
Yes, I did mean that my girlfriend is less tolerant of my whistle playing than the cat is. Actually, it’s my girlfriend’s cat, so if the cat couldn’t tolerate the girlfriend, we’d have some serious problems here.
And just for the record, the misunderstanding was not due to a spelling or punctuation issue (I’m an admitted grammar snob myself), but rather because of a vaguely written (some would say poorly written) sentence structure. But since hilarity ensued…I think it was justified.
I only have a 6 month old beagle right now…my bass guitar freaks him out, the acoustic guitar sends him baying under the bead, my Feadog makes him confused, the recorder he doesn’t mind and he absolutely hates our Egyptian flute! Doesn’t seem to mind the harmonica though.
my two ex male coons are a breed apart…
few years ago, when I was playing the black diamond, one of them came and started to “hug” the whistle when I sat at the bureau. (if you have cats, you know what I mean)
nowadays, when I get it out, they give me ugly looks.
they now seem to prefer my overton low D…wonder what it will be like with the upcoming overton high d.
berti
My resident Labrador is a music lover. If I sit on the couch and play the whistle, he usually comes over to lie on my feet. I appreciate that greatly. We have a nice cozy time together alone in the living room, because the human members of the family usually make themselves scarce when I bring out a whistle. 
I do foster care for my local Golden Retriever Rescue group, so I have a constant stream of canine visitors in my home. (Just one at a time, though!) Their reaction to the whistle makes me appreciate my own dog even more. Many of the foster dogs are deeply perturbed by the whistle. A lot of them run for the door, as if to say “Help! I must escape this horrible sound!” A few complained, not really howling, but “talking” in the way retrievers do.
Luckily for me, most dogs tolerate my main instrument (hammered dulcimer) well.
My cats ignore seem to ignore pretty much any instrument. My ferrets are interested in my saxophone, insofar as they like to stick their heads in the bell or run off with various parts (ligature, neck strap, cleaning cloth..), but they seem to ignore my irish instruments. OK, not completely. Liam likes to climb up on the shelf where I keep my whistles/flutes and systematically push them over the side. Maybe there’s a message in that…
The only pet that I think was actually interested in my playing was my late ferret, Athena. She would wander over to me when I was practicing (whistle or whistle like things were apperntly traditionally used to call ferrets while hunting with them, so maybe this isnt’ too odd) and lick my ankles. I really can’t see why she liked my whistle, because the only one I had at the time was catigorically aweful. But during her final illness, it did seem to relax her, or at least I could convince myself I was doing something. I am very greatful for that.
Yes, I understand completely. Although I have improved marginally in my playing my cats have not ceased to complain through a variety of actions. (See my previous whine.)
Sandy
Hmmm … I’m naturally a cat-person. Don’t have a mog right now … sigh … I’m sure any moggie I had would get all strange to the sound of the whistle.
Most recently, I was at a folk fest that was hosted at a dog-racing track. Of course, the races went on as scheduled and the folkies had to go-around. Very fitting in a Celtic sense, I thought. The greyhounds had a mixed reaction to my mandatory tooting: at post-time, the line-up were torn between the desire to lie-down and relax and the desire to come and kill the wounded animal.
I suspect that’s what told the blooded hounds from the legal.
I was happy to give a the less-than-ethical trainers an anxious moment!!! maybe a sense of pride? 
The only dog I ever liked was a blooded black retriever - he blooded himself, one day (that I know of), at the expense of a pet goose down the road - $360 worth of vet bills, then went on to eat half a neighbor’s cat. If only I hadn’t fed him so well!! Nice dog - intelligent, he got poisoned and shot and run-over by the municipal lawn-mower (that he was chasing). A pet without Life is no friend.
A happy dog. He got put-down by my ex when he started to look a little old.
Same with my best cat - it was agony to watch her eyes cloud-over an hour after the shot, changed my life - she was the one that chose me for the ex, but that held no consequence at the end. She dreamed of fish. At her farewell, I had only a guitar to serenade her out. Whistle would have been far more appropriate.
As for my ex? I once pulled her life back in through her feet. Some volunteer to death. Some would prefer to be eaten.
Tears of blood
Give me a tune for that