Pussy with ESP?

I had an entry titled My Friend's Pussy is way BETTER...... last 29th of June, 2007 and surely he was indeed better than Tess pussy of Prudence and Madness. Barely a little over a month and my friends pussy does not seem way better anymore when a new pussy came along.


This pussy was adopted by staff members of Steere House Nursing and Rehabilitation Center in Providence, Rhode Island. Meet Oscar the amazing Cat subject of news stories and even scientific studies for his uncanny ability to “sense” if grandma or grandpa’s time is up. He was adopted as a kitten and for 2 years has presided over the death of more than 25 residents of the facility. He is highly regarded by the physicians and staff at the Steere House and the families of the residents for his precise prediction.

He has been an instant celebrity with cable news featuring him every so often for such uncanny ability to predict death. Some people look at Oscar's ability as a paranormal phenomena just like cat lover Vanishing American while others try to understand what exactly is going on.

A Day in the Life of Oscar the Cat by David M. Dosa, M.D., M.P.H. as published in The New England Journal of Medicine had a very interesting narration on what Oscar has been up to, which I quote:

Making his way back up the hallway, Oscar arrives at Room 313. The door is open, and he proceeds inside. Mrs. K. is resting peacefully in her bed, her breathing steady but shallow. She is surrounded by photographs of her grandchildren and one from her wedding day. Despite these keepsakes, she is alone. Oscar jumps onto her bed and again sniffs the air. He pauses to consider the situation, and then turns around twice before curling up beside Mrs. K.

One hour passes. Oscar waits. A nurse walks into the room to check on her patient. She pauses to note Oscar's presence. Concerned, she hurriedly leaves the room and returns to her desk. She grabs Mrs. K.'s chart off the medical-records rack and begins to make phone calls.

Within a half hour the family starts to arrive. Chairs are brought into the room, where the relatives begin their vigil. The priest is called to deliver last rites. And still, Oscar has not budged, instead purring and gently nuzzling Mrs. K. A young grandson asks his mother, "What is the cat doing here?" The mother, fighting back tears, tells him, "He is here to help Grandma get to heaven." Thirty minutes later, Mrs. K. takes her last earthly breath. With this, Oscar sits up, looks around, then departs the room so quietly that the grieving family barely notices.

On his way back to the charting area, Oscar passes a plaque mounted on the wall. On it is engraved a commendation from a local hospice agency: "For his compassionate hospice care, this plaque is awarded to Oscar the Cat." Oscar takes a quick drink of water and returns to his desk to curl up for a long rest. His day's work is done. There will be no more deaths today, not in Room 310 or in any other room for that matter. After all, no one dies on the third floor unless Oscar pays a visit and stays awhile.

cats