"He doesn't make too many mistakes. He seems to
understand when patients are about to die," said Dr.
David Dosa 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.
Oscar is better at predicting death than the people
who work there, said Dr. Joan Teno of Brown University,
who treats patients at the nursing home and is an expert
on care for the terminally ill
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 advanced 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."
