Free Making Rounds and Oscar (2010) by David Dosa

Oscar."
    Mary paused for a second, savoring the telling. "The aide returned a few minutes later, carrying one unhappy kitty into the room. She put Oscar on the bed and announced to us that if the patient were dying, Oscar should be present. Oscar looked at all of us like we were all stark mad and ran out of the room quicker than she could finish her sentence. Hours later, we found him hiding under the nurse's desk."
    "So, what happened?"
    "Ralph actually hung on for another thirty-six hours. But sure enough, four hours before he died, we found Oscar pacing in front of the patient's closed door. Oscar looked profoundly unhappy. When we opened the door, he dashed straight for the bed and leaped up next to Ralph. He curled up there and refused to budge. A few hours later, Ralph was gone. Oscar didn't leave his side until the funeral director came and even then, we needed to bribe him with cat treats to get him away from Ralph."
    I shook my head, but I don't know if it was in wonder or disbelief. Mary gauged my reaction and offered me a hint of a smile.
    "Dr. Dosa, it looks like you're starting to take our cat here more seriously."
    I threw up my hands. "Who knows, Mary? I'm still a scientist at heart." I knew Mary hated my I'm a scientist talk, but I continued. "I've always been taught to look dispassionately at the facts--to analyze them, form theories, and then poke holes in them until other theories develop that are closer to the truth. You know that. When you consider it from a scientific point of view it's easy to shrug off suggestions that a cat can predict death. It's so much easier to say that he's just sitting with those patients because of the activity--the gathering of family, the holding of hands, the saying of good-byes. It just makes more sense. Or maybe he just likes to hang out with dying people because they don't bother him. Most cats sleep two thirds of the day anyway, so chances are a cat is going to be found on a warm bed somewhere, right?"
    Mary smiled widely. She seemed to sense that I had reached some sort of tipping point and that I was prepared to believe in this gift of Oscar's. She didn't want to push it, but she couldn't seem to help herself either. "But you've got to admit that there's something unusual about our cat, right?"
    "When you consider all the circumstantial evidence, it certainly looks that way."
    "So, do some more investigating," she said reasonably. "You're a researcher. I think you should talk to some of the family members of the patients who died on Oscar's watch, see what they have to say."
    "I guess it couldn't hurt," I said. I was thinking about the part of my job that required me to be a detective. Science is, among other things, an art of detection. I felt that I had to get closer to the heart of this mystery.
    "So, where should I begin?" I asked.
    "I'd start with someone you trust," Mary prompted.
    "Donna Richards?" I asked.
    "I can't think of anyone better!" she said, perhaps a little more self-satisfied than was necessary.
    I hate it when she's right.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    "Cats always know whether people like or dislike them.
They do not always care enough to do anything about it."
    WINIFRED CARRIERE
    TO SAY THAT I TRUSTED DONNA RICHARDS WAS SOMETHING of an understatement. It was like saying that Sherlock Holmes trusted Dr. Watson, or that Captain Kirk trusted Scotty to run the engine room.
    As any doctor will tell you, good office managers are worth their weight in gold. They manage large staffs, stay one step ahead of government regulations, and make sure that important phone calls get returned. They see that the billing is current and that everyone gets paid, and make sure we don't run out of supplies--everything from tongue depressors to copier paper. Office manager is one of those thankless jobs that only gets noticed when something goes wrong. That may be why it can be such a difficult position to fill. I know that's why we snapped up Donna Richards when she, quite literally,