Researchers say Oscar has a perfect track record determining who's about to die. Usually two - four hours prior to death he goes and hangs out bedside in the rooms of sick residents until they pass away. He is currently featured in a medical journal article about his prognosticating abilities.
I've had a problem with cats for years. I don't believe that whole black cat superstition. And I do have my own cat at home now, and half the time she's fun to be around. But as I've written before while I've never been attacked by a dog, I had my forearms shredded as a kid by a neighbor's crazed cat. I was like 8 or 9. I was walking down the sidewalk enjoying a Popsicle or ice cream cone, or something like that. And the cat came tearing off the neighbor's porch, claws out, fangs bared - jumped on me, and proceeded to swat and scratch away. Left me bloody, terrified, and running like OJ through the airport in a Hertz commercial. Not a good scene. I laughed later, but it took a few days. And my laugh, upon recalling the memory, was more like the shrill cackle of Miss Havisham.
So I say Oscar, the Angel of Death, is a glass-half situation. If you believe he just goes to these sick patients' rooms by divine ordination to comfort these people and "escort" them to the other side, then the glass is half full.
But, if like me, you suspect Oscar may be wearing a figurative black cape and carrying a sickle and sending the nursing home residents to the other side, then the glass is half empty.
Either way, unless you're certain, don't turn your back on Oscar.