The subculture is that of cat life.
This cat does not participate that much in street activity but sits in the window and observes. We call her The Directoress. Sometimes if food is put out, she will hop down to eat but only if it suits her mood.
We call this cat Stripes. She is the dominant cat on the street and likes nothing better than to come into our house or any house. More than once we have found her sleeping on the bed in the snore room.
She has her own cat door at her house, but I suspect that she doesn't like the limitation of one place.
She's a climber. Often, we look up in the air we can see her perched on a balcony four floors up or even on an electric box watching pigeons. We have never figured out how she gets up there.
Stripes' brother stays more at home but will make an appearance one or twice a day. He goes as far as the café at the end of the street but then rushes home to slip thru the cat door.
The pink cat, as we think of him, is homeless, but one of the Mamies (an old woman who lives on the street) feeds him. The moment food is put out, Stripes is there and sometimes her brother.
The other day this poor cat was in a fight and took refuge in the Mamie's house until he felt strong enough to face life on the street.
Unlike the other cats, he is not apt to come up to the humans that walk up and down the street.
Sometimes other cats from nearby streets wander by. Their presence is discouraged by the locals. We've been woken or startled by the furosity of the encouragement for the newcomer to move along.
Immigration can be a problem even for the feline species.