I recently rewatched Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, expecting a light, entertaining sequel with great animation and a few laughs. What I didn’t expect was an emotional gut-punch… and a quiet invitation to look deeper. Somewhere between the wolf’s chilling whistles and Perrito’s tender optimism, it hit me: this movie might just be a subtle allegory for the five soul wounds described by Lise Bourbeau—rejection, abandonment, humiliation, betrayal, and injustice.
Now, I know the creators haven’t said anything about this connection. But once the idea took root, I couldn’t unsee it. Each main character seems to embody one of these wounds—not just as a backstory device, but as the emotional engine behind their behavior, choices, and transformations.
Let me walk you through what I saw. Maybe you’ll see it too.
🐱 Puss in Boots — Rejection
The legendary, fearless Puss is down to his last life. For the first time, he’s not just running from danger—he’s running from himself. Underneath all the bravado is a deep fear of not being enough if he isn’t “The Puss in Boots.” He avoids vulnerability and distances himself from Kitty, even though he loves her, because deep down he’s afraid of being rejected once she sees the real, flawed version of him. His healing begins when he learns to embrace who he is—not as a legend, but as a cat worthy of love and connection.
🐾 Kitty Softpaws — Betrayal
Kitty's wound is more relational. She was once ready to share her life with Puss—but he never showed up. Since then, she’s built walls and armor, repeating “I don’t trust anyone” like a mantra. Her fierce independence is a shield against ever being betrayed again. But under that cool exterior is a longing to be seen, to be chosen, and to trust again. Her journey isn’t just about finding the wishing star—it’s about risking her heart one more time.
🐶 Perrito — Humiliation
This sweet, goofy dog stole my heart. But his past is quietly heartbreaking: locked in a sock, mocked, abandoned—and yet somehow, he remains full of light. His trauma sits quietly beneath his cheerful surface. He’s learned to hide pain behind playfulness, a common response to humiliation. What’s beautiful is how Perrito doesn’t become jaded. His presence becomes a healing force for the others—precisely because he has faced darkness and chosen joy.
🐻 Goldilocks — Abandonment
Goldi’s character surprised me the most. Fierce and loyal to her adopted bear family, she’s still chasing something: “a real family.” That wish reveals a core wound of abandonment—even though she’s surrounded by love, she hasn’t fully accepted it because she still feels something is missing. Her growth comes when she realizes she already has what she’s been looking for all along. And the bears? They’ve accepted her from the start.
🥧 Jack Horner — Injustice
Jack is the clearest villain in the story, and also the one who doesn’t heal. He grew up with fame and fortune but felt overlooked—like the world owed him more. His obsession with collecting all the magic in the world stems from a belief that life is unfair, that others got more than he did, and now he has to take it all back. His wound of injustice has twisted into entitlement and cruelty. Unlike the others, he never confronts his pain—and it destroys him.
Why This Matters
We rarely expect emotional depth from animated films, but that’s exactly what makes The Last Wish so powerful. It doesn’t shout its message—it whispers it. These characters aren’t just chasing a wishing star; they’re confronting their deepest wounds. And healing doesn’t come from magic—it comes from connection, vulnerability, and self-acceptance.
Whether intentional or not, this film carries a quiet emotional wisdom. If you’ve ever read about the five soul wounds, give it a rewatch. You might be surprised at what you feel.
Have you noticed this too? Or did you interpret it differently? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
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