PROVIDENCE, Rhode Island (AP) -- Oscar the cat seems to have an
uncanny knack for predicting when nursing home patients are going
to die, by curling up next to them during their final hours.
His accuracy, observed in 25 cases, has led the staff to call
family members once he has chosen someone. It usually means the
patient has less than four hours to live.
"He doesn't make too many mistakes. He seems to understand when
patients are about to die," Dr. David Dosa said in an interview. He
describes the phenomenon in a poignant essay in Thursday's issue of
the New England Journal of Medicine.
"Many family members take some solace from it. They appreciate the
companionship that the cat provides for their dying loved one,"
said Dosa, a geriatrician and assistant professor of medicine at
Brown University.
The 2-year-old feline was adopted as a kitten and grew up in a
third-floor dementia unit at the Steere House Nursing and
Rehabilitation Center. The facility treats people with Alzheimer's,
Parkinson's disease and other illnesses.
After about six months, the staff noticed Oscar would make his own
rounds, just like the doctors and nurses. He'd sniff and observe
patients, then sit beside people who would wind up dying in a few
hours.
Dosa said Oscar seems to take his work seriously and is generally
aloof. "This is not a cat that's friendly to people," he
said.
She was convinced of Oscar's talent when he made his 13th correct
call. While observing one patient, Teno said she noticed the woman
wasn't eating, was breathing with difficulty and that her legs had
a bluish tinge, signs that often mean death is near.
Oscar wouldn't stay inside the room, though, so Teno thought his
streak was broken. Instead, it turned out the doctor's prediction
was roughly 10 hours too early. Sure enough, during the patient's
final two hours, nurses told Teno that Oscar joined the woman at
her bedside.
Doctors say most of the people who get a visit from the
sweet-faced, gray-and-white cat are so ill they probably don't know
he's there, so patients aren't aware he's a harbinger of death.
Most families are grateful for the advance warning, although one
wanted Oscar out of the room while a family member died. When Oscar
is put outside, he paces and meows his displeasure.
No one's certain if Oscar's behavior is scientifically significant
or points to a cause. Teno wonders if the cat notices telltale
scents or reads something into the behavior of the nurses who
raised him.
Nicholas Dodman, who directs an animal behavioral clinic at the
Tufts University Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine and has
read Dosa's article, said the only way to know is to carefully
document how Oscar divides his time between the living and
dying.
If Oscar really is a furry grim reaper, it's also possible his
behavior could be driven by self-centered pleasures like a heated
blanket placed on a dying person, Dodman said.
Nursing home staffers aren't concerned with explaining Oscar, so
long as he gives families a better chance at saying goodbye to the
dying.
Oscar recently received a wall plaque publicly commending his
"compassionate hospice care."
