At one time in history, his suitcase might have been filled with salt.
A few thousand years before that, and he might have carried a suitcase of rendered animal fat - necessary to survive a prehistoric winter.

But, what I find interesting (and sad beyond measure) is how few times, if any, that there would be a person in that suitcase.

Something to think about.

would expect that the human would meet us there later and wouldn't dream of cutting that person's life short - or the pet's - which we would assume would soon enough come after us over the Rainbow Brisge.

And I still don't get it. I must be more pants than smart today, soldierant. Sorry.

If I brought one or the other,
I would shorten their life.
I would deprive others of their companionship.
I would remove them from a world which might desperately need them to
accomplish something that only they can.
Some of the above almost certainly would lead to other people suffering,
possibly even dying.
And I haven't even gone into consent.
Not to mention that just the thought of cramming another person or a large
animal or even a small animal into a suitcase gives me the creeps.

Gold, or other inanimate objects, don't need to consent, and their removal from the world doesn't harm other people, unless they're stolen, or any animals, unless they're dog toys or catnip.

The more you love someone, the more invested you are in their being free to make their own choices and live their own life and be themselves. That's basically why I would never think of putting them in a suitcase, even to take them to heaven.

And before some clever soul assures me that Musk is indeed dying, as are we all, I was hoping for a more immediate and useful death, thanks.

Then "hurry up already!!!"

I just wish that a choice few would hurry up their own dying process. I don't know, maybe they need some help with that.

So to Peter it is just pavement.

A stock investor falls asleep in a small, unnoticed part of a cave in Central Park, and doesn’t wake up for twenty years. When he finally does wake, he sees the previous day’s newspaper, sees the date and freaks out. He runs to a pay phone and somehow tricks it into putting him through to his stockbroker across town.

The stockbroker is amazed, thinking the guy must have emigrated to Mars and forgotten to tell him. The frantic investor asks how much his IBM stock is now worth. “It’s currently trading at $200,000 a share,” says the broker. The guy freaks out. “And my General Electric?” The broker checks. Around $175,000 a share. OMG the guy realizes, I’m now worth half a billion dollars. Then the operator comes on. “Please deposit $80,000 for the next three minutes.”

But for a minute there, I thought the punchline would somehow have a trump and a bad ending in it.