>With a purr, death comes on little cat feet
> >By Colin Nickerson, Globe Staff | July 26, 2007
> >
> >Oscar the cat makes his grand entrances just as life is about to leave.
> >
> >A hop onto the bed, a fastidious lick of the
> >paws, then a snuggle beside a nursing home
> >patient with little time left. Oscar's purr,
> >when keeping close company with the dying, is so
> >intense it's almost a low rumble.
> >
> >"He's a cat with an uncanny instinct for death,"
> >said Dr. David M. Dosa, assistant professor at
> >the Brown University School of Medicine and a
> >geriatric specialist. "He attends deaths. He's pretty insistent on it."
> >
> >In the two years since Oscar was adopted into
> >the third-floor dementia unit of the Steere
> >House Nursing and Rehabilitation Center in
> >Providence, he has maintained close vigil over
> >the deaths of more than 25 patients, according
> >to nursing staff, doctors who treat patients in
> >the home, and an article in tomorrow's New
> >England Journal of Medicine, written by Dosa.
> >
> >When death is near, Oscar nearly always appears
> >at the last hour or so. Yet he shows no special
> >interest in patients who are simply in poor
> >shape, or even patients who may be dying but who still have a few days.
> >
> >Animal behavior experts have no explanation for
> >Oscar's ability to sense imminent death. They
> >theorize that he might detect some subtle change
> >in metabolism -- felines are as acutely
> >sensitive to smells as dogs -- but are stumped
> >as to why he would show interest.
> >
> >"It may just come down to empathy," said Dr.
> >Nicholas H. Dodman, a leading behaviorist and
> >professor at Tufts University's Cummings School
> >of Veterinary Medicine, when told about Oscar's eerie knack.
> >
> >In any event, when Oscar settles beside a
> >patient on the bed, caregivers take it as sign
> >that family members should be summoned
> >immediately to bid their loved one farewell.
> >
> >"We've come to recognize him hopping on the bed
> >as one indicator the end is very near," said
> >Mary Miranda, charge nurse in the Safe Haven
> >Advanced Care Unit, the formal name of the
> >surprisingly cheery floor that is home to 41
> >patients suffering in the final stages of
> >Alzheimer's, Parkinson's, stroke, and other
> >mentally debilitating diseases. "Oscar's been consistently right."
> >
> >Said Dosa, who treats patients at Steere: "This
> >is a cat that knows death. His instincts that a
> >patient is about to die are often more acute
> >than the instincts of medical professionals."
> >
> >Oscar's tale is emphatically not one about
> >people dying alone and neglected, with only an animal for company.
> >
> >The Steere staff has a reputation among
> >geriatric professionals for dedication, compassion, and top-notch care.
> >
> >The center is sunny, clean as, well, a cat's
> >whiskers, and filled with antique furniture,
> >flowers, and nature prints that impart the feel of a cozy country home.
> >
> >"Caregivers are always there trying to make the
> >patient comfortable until the very end," said
> >Brenda Toll, a registered nurse and unit manager.
> >
> > "But Oscar's a component of dying... It's kind
> > of weird, but kind of lovely. He's become part
> > of the death ritual, along with lowered lights,
> > aromatherapy, and gentle music.''
> >
> >Keeping pets has been a trend in nursing home
> >care for several years. The Steere Center,
> >founded in 1874, has 120 residents, plus six
> >cats, a slew of parakeets and a floppy-eared rabbit.
> >
> >Oscar's sole domain, however, is on the locked
> >dementia ward. He came to the unit as a kitten
> >in July 2005, brought by a staff member to
> >replace the floor's previous resident feline,
> >Henry, who had died some months earlier.
> >
> >A gregarious cat, quick to solicit ear scratches
> >from a visitor, Oscar can be clownish at times.
> >"Just go and try completing a medical form when
> >Oscar's near enough to whap the pen," laughed
> >Dr. Joan M. Teno, professor of community health
> >at Brown and associate medical director of Home
> >& Hospice Care of Rhode Island, an agency specializing in end-of-life care.
> >
> >But it is Oscar's keen sense of impending death,
> >not his occasional kittenishness, that has made the mixed-breed cat legend.
> >"Medical people are skeptical at the start. But
> >you wind up believing," said Teno.
> >
> >"Oscar is a normal cat with an extra-normal
> >sense for death," she said. "He is drawn to
> >death. Either he wants to give comfort. Or he is
> >just attracted to all the quiet activity that
> >surrounds a patient close to dying.
> >
> >"As a scientist, I want to offer a biological
> >explanation for this," she said. "But I can't."
> >
> >Occasionally, families are spooked by a cat
> >keeping death watch. And their wishes trump
> >Oscar's. The cat is shooed from the bed and
> >locked from the room. Oscar doesn't like this.
> >
> >"He kind of rubs aggressively against the door,
> >paces back and forth, yowls in protest," said Teno.
> >Other families are deeply appreciative of Oscar.
> >
> >Jack McCullough of East Providence lost both his
> >mother and aunt at Steere; the octogenarian
> >sisters, suffering from disease-induced
> >dementia, shared a room. Marion, his mother,
> >died in November 2005; Aunt Barbara died on March 9 of this year.
> >In both cases, Oscar predicted death: Hopping
> >onto each woman's bed near the final hour. Cuddling close and purring.
> >
> >"Oscar's presence gave a sense of completion and
> >contentment," said McCullough. "Both women loved pets."
> >
> >He added: "The staff was wonderful. But Oscar
> >brought a special serenity to the room. What's
> >more peaceful than a purring cat? What sound
> >more beautiful to fill one's ears when leaving this life?"
> >
> >And as with any feline, a hefty portion of
> >Oscar's days are given to zzzzs. He likes to
> >sleep on stacks of patient reports. Or on the
> >desk at the nurses' station. Or in the linen closet.
> >
> >When awake, however, and strutting about, Oscar
> >the cat projects something very much like the
> >quality that ancient Romans called gravitas -- a
> >solemn dedication to duty."He seems to take
> >very, very seriously what he does, for whatever reason he does it," said Dosa.
> >
> >Oscar makes regular "inspection" rounds of the
> >unit, sauntering in and out of patient rooms --
> >as if checking on the condition of the
> >occupants. But he never joins them for a snooze.
> >
> >Until.
> >"He only shows great interest in individuals
> >when they are about to die," said Dosa.
> >Dodman, the Tufts professor, was puzzled by
> >Oscar's death fixation. "Sounds like a pretty
> >scary cat -- I'm surprised people don't hold up
> >crucifixes when it enters a room," he said
> >jokingly, referring to the belief that a Christian cross will deter vampires.
> >
> >But Dodman, author of "The Cat Who Cried for
> >Help: Attitudes, Emotions, and the Psychology of
> >Cats" and other bestselling books on animal
> >behavior, said felines don't deserve their reputation for indifference.
>
> >"There are just so many stories of cats who
> >sense when their person is sick, and how the cat
> >will show special attention to them," he said.
> >"Cats give comfort and affection as much as they
> >take comfort and affection.'' As for Oscar,
> >Dodman said, "perhaps [he] senses some change in
> >the metabolism or mental aura of the dying person.''
>
> >Meanwhile, Oscar is surely the only cat to have
> >won official recognition for his dedication to the dying.
> >
> >At the entrance to the dementia unit hangs a
> >plaque from a hospice organization saluting
> >Oscar "for his compassionate quality end-of-life care."
> >
> >© Copyright 2007 The New York Times Company
>
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