I have a stone bird bath on the metal garden table right outside my sliding glass door. The bird bath is of concrete formed to look like an enormous shell. I keep it filled and the water fresh. The big shell is surrounded by by potted plants. Above it hang three flowering fuchsias, which the hummingbirds love. Several birds love the bird bath but the most dedicated user is a catbird. When the catbird wants to use the bath, he will scold any bird that happens to be there ahead of him.
Nothing in the garden - or the house - or the world - would run right if it weren't for the catbird. How do I know? The catbird told me so. It started on the day part of our roof fell in (yes, really, but that's another story). The catbird showed up to make sure the contractor did the repair right. The catbird would sit on the guy's foot and comment. The catbird follows me around the garden and gives me advice.
Back to the bird bath and on to the cat. The cat in question is my big Cal Meepers, a non-pedigreed Maine Coon type, and the sweetest cat in the world. Cal does not go outside but he does sit on his side of the screen door on occasion to watch the garden life. It wasn't long before the catbird and Cal discovered each other. The catbird takes a bath and talks to Cal. Cal sits fascinated. He is alert but not in hunting mode.
"Trill squeak squeak!" says the catbird.
"Mrr! Meep!" says Cal.
Translation isn't really required.