Why 80s Cartoon Cats Still Feel Like Home (My 12 Favorites)

If I’m talking about villainous cats from my childhood, Azrael is always the first one I picture. He’s tied to The Smurfs in my brain like peanut butter and jelly: Gargamel plots, Azrael smirks, everything backfires.

I always found him funnier than Gargamel. Azrael had this “I can’t believe I work here” energy before that was even a trope. And even when he was “bad,” he was still the one taking the hit for the boss’s terrible planning. Honestly? Relatable.

Here’s the thing… Snarf is one of those characters I never stopped quoting. I don’t care that he’s technically a “Snarf.” My childhood brain filed him under “cat,” stamped it, and moved on.

I loved that he felt like the emotional glue. Lion-O charged into danger like it was a hobby, and Snarf reacted the way I would’ve: panic first, heroics later. And in my experience, those characters age well because they’re honest about fear.

M.A.D. Cat felt like a parody of a parody. A shadowy villain stroking a cat is already a classic trope. But Inspector Gadget made it weirder by letting the cat become the emotional punching bag and the audience’s little “tell” for how the episode was going.

In my head, that snickering laugh is basically the punctuation mark of the whole show. If I’m thinking about 80s cartoon energy, big gestures, big reactions—M.A.D. Cat is right in the middle of it.

I remember The Get Along Gang feeling softer than a lot of the big action shows. And Zipper stood out because he wasn’t just “the athletic one.” He had opinions. He got irritated. He wanted to win.

But he wasn’t a bully. In my experience, that’s the difference between a character I forget and a character I keep: a little edge, plus a decent heart.

The Great Mouse Detective (1986) did not need to go that hard with Felicia, but it did. She’s not a wink-wink villain. She’s an on-screen threat. And as a kid, I felt that.

I still think Felicia is one of the most effective “guard cats” in animation because her role is simple and brutal: she shows up when someone’s about to pay the price. That’s dark. That’s memorable. That’s 80s Disney being a little unhinged.

I’ve always had a soft spot for Henry’s Cat because it didn’t try to be loud. It was weirdly calm. Almost dreamy. The animation felt like it came from someone’s sketchbook, not a factory line.

And I love that the main character doesn’t even get a proper name. He’s just… Henry’s cat. That’s such a specific kind of humor that I still find funny now.

In my memory, Heathcliff is what happens when a cartoon cat grows up on a curb instead of a couch. He’s bold. He’s scrappy. He’s always one step ahead of whoever’s trying to catch him.

I also remember the show’s split segments—the vibe shift between Heathcliff and the Catillac Cats was part of the charm. It felt like getting two different flavors in one bowl of cereal.

I don’t care how many years pass, an armored green tiger is always going to be cool. And the Cringer-to-Battle-Cat flip was pure childhood wish fulfillment.

Cringer felt like every house cat I’ve ever met: allergic to effort, deeply suspicious of danger. Battle Cat felt like what I wanted my cat to become when the doorbell rang. That contrast is exactly why he stuck with me.

Okay, yes. Lion-O is technically not a “house cat.” He’s a Thunderian. I’m still counting him because the feline design is the point, and 80s cartoons were built on bold archetypes.

I spent an embarrassing amount of time pretending a random stick was the Sword of Omens. And if I’m being honest, “sight beyond sight” is still one of my favorite pieces of cartoon nonsense.

Yes, Sylvester predates the 80s. I know. I also know he was absolutely an 80s staple because reruns were basically the hidden backbone of Saturday mornings.

I always rooted for him a little—mostly because he tried so hard and got humbled so consistently. If there’s a cartoon cat version of “fail forward,” Sylvester is it.

Tom is another rerun king. And even when I felt bad for him (which I did), I couldn’t look away. The show was basically a weekly lesson in cartoon gravity and pain tolerance.

I’ve always thought Tom had more range than people give him credit for. He’s not just a “mean cat.” He’s annoyed, proud, embarrassed, hopeful, crushed. He’s a whole emotional arc… with a frying pan involved.

Garfield wasn’t just a character in the 80s. He was a lifestyle. I couldn’t go anywhere without seeing a Garfield plush, a sticker, a lunchbox, a car-window suction cup situation.

I think his power was how honest he felt. He hated Mondays. He loved food. He treated exercise like a personal insult. And I’m telling you—those jokes hit different when you’re a kid watching adults sigh through Monday morning.