Animal activists soon followed, and in the 1990s they set up shop in a group of rooms under street level from which they could aid the cats. A small gift shop does brisk business with "Il Gatti di Roma" T-shirts depicting the felines amid the grandeur of ancient Rome, as well as postcards, stickers and other knickknacks. A calendar whose proceeds go to the shelter is among the most popular in the city, along with one of the new Pope Francis, a collection of handsome/hunky Catholic priests and a nostalgic series of shots from the movie "Roman Holiday" with Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn.

On a recent spring day, cats - black, white, black and white, gray, gray and white, orange, orange and white, calico and tiger-striped - sat or snoozed on steps, stumps of marble columns, rooftops and under trees and shrubs. A few ventured up the steps used for the occasional guided tour to meet with the humans who come by to see the "cat-acombs" of ancient Rome. Signs in multiple languages ask visitors not to feed the cats so as not to make them sick. The sign is often ignored. One recent evening a large aluminum tray of ziti and tomato sauce was being sampled by a trio of felines at the top of the stairs leading to the temple area.

For now, there is what one volunteer quipped is "pax Romana" - the Roman peace. The ever-shifting political scene has federal and city officials waiting until new governments get settled and bureaucratic reassignments reshape the players on both sides. The financial crisis of the past few years has already cooled the ardor of politicians who want to evict the cats, knowing there will be a cost and that they then must show progress on the archaeological dig to justify the expense.

"No news is good news," said volunteer leader Anna Bavicchi. "The cats can stay for now."

It is an ever-changing cast of cats. Between six and 12 new cats arrive each day. Abandoned cats found on the streets, kittens in a box behind a shop. The cats are available for adoption, though Italian law makes it difficult for foreigners.

"But we have cats all over the world," Bavicchi said. "People come here and fall in love with a cat and do whatever they have to do to take it home."

Or they find a new home themselves. Karen Coleman of Sydney visited the shelter and ended up staying nine months and bringing two of the Torre Argentina cats home with her. She now spends half the year in Rome working as a volunteer at the shelter helping with the cats and talking to English-speaking tourists.

"The irony is that I brought those cats all the way from Rome to Sydney and now I have to find a cat sitter to watch them while I am back in Rome."

Bavicchi said the greatest obstacles might not be a direct attempt to evict the cats. The shelter runs on charity and the financial crisis has cut into donations. Meanwhile, a different government department decided to build a light rail line right down the Via Florida, practically over the heads of the volunteers' work area and the small hospital it runs for cats recovering from disease or injuries.

"The cats are just going to hate the noise," she said.

Gary A. Warner: travel@ocregister.com