Emma requests Chicken Marsala and pancakes for dinner.  She quietly enters the kitchen and says, "Where is Trouble going?" Now, I look at her, and several thoughts cross my mind at once.  Did he open the window and jump out?  Does she mean he left?  As the look on her face is fairly calm, I remain calm, I still have the spoon in my hand, and Emma holds on to my apron as we quietly enter the bedroom.  

Trouble managed to get himself inside the suitcase (on the floor), which is fairly large, the one I am donating.  This suitcase can pack two weeks of clothes, and more than likely not allowed on planes anymore.  So, there Trouble is, tail out, head out, huge paws off the side, cozy and snug inside my suitcase.  This is where he sleeps now. Emma thinks he wants to go on a trip.  Trouble looks at me and Emma and puts his head back down on the rug, we both shrug and go back to cooking.