290. Coping (5)

 This morning I ran up the attic stairs like a little kid on Christmas morning. Steeping across to where I had laid the trap (why so far away from the safe landing?) I nearly fell over. I manage to get my balance back by holding on to a beam. Then I looked and my heart sank: the apple was still there, balanced on the grid, the shiny green door like a drawbridge stuck on the open position. No cute furry animal to take for a car ride.

I think I might be able to get wolf's urine on the Internet.