Alex the Talking Research Parrot Dies, Aged 31

Alex the Talking Research Parrot Dies, Aged 31
Tuesday , September 11, 2007

WALTHAM, Mass. — A gifted parrot that could count to six, identify colors and even express frustration with repetitive scientific trials has died after 30 years of helping researchers better understand the avian brain.
The death of Alex, an African Grey parrot, left scientists at Brandeis University feeling as if they'd lost a colleague.
"It's devastating to lose an individual you've worked with pretty much every day for 30 years," scientist Irene Pepperberg told The Boston Globe. "Someone was working with him 8 to 12 hours every day of his life."
• Click here to visit FOXNews.com's Natural Science Center.
Alex's advanced language and recognition skills revolutionized the understanding of the avian brain.
After Pepperberg bought Alex from an animal shop in 1973, the parrot learned enough English to identify 50 different objects, seven colors, and five shapes.
He could count up to six, including zero, was able to express desires, including his frustration with the repetitive research.
He also occasionally instructed two other parrots at the lab to "talk better" if they mumbled, though it wasn't clear if he was simply mimicking researchers.
Pepperberg said Alex hadn't reached his full cognitive potential and was demonstrating the ability to take distinct sounds from words he knew and combine them to form new words. Just last month he pronounced the word "seven" for the first time.
The cause of Alex's death was unknown. The African Grey parrot's average life span is 50 years, Pepperberg said. She said Alex was discovered dead in his cage Friday morning.
Pepperberg said she waited to release the news until Monday so grieving researchers could get over the shock and talk about it.
Pepperberg said the last time she saw Alex on Thursday, they went through their goodnight routine, in which she told him it was time to go in the cage and said: "You be good, I love you. I'll see you tomorrow."
Alex responded, "You'll be in tomorrow."

Oscar the Cat Predicts Nursing Home Deaths

(From Foxnews.com)

PROVIDENCE, R.I. — Oscar the cat seems to have an uncanny knack for predicting when nursing home patients are going to die, by curling up next to them during their final hours. His accuracy, observed in 25 cases, has led the staff to call family members once he has chosen someone. It usually means they have less than four hours to live.
"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."

Some Pig!

About a week ago I started reading Sy Montgomery's The Good Good Pig: The Extraordinary Life of Christopher Hogwood and I must say I am hooked!

It's an amazing story of how Sy and her husband Howard rescued the runt of a litter, brought him home in a shoebox, and took care of him for his entire life.

Throughout his days "Chris" would spend much of his time in the Plateau, or wandering around town meeting others in the small eastern community, or enjoying a Pig spa with the neighbor girls, Kate and Jane.

So many times throughout reading this book I caught myself laughing out loud, nodding my head in agreement when Sy would talk about how when it came to dealing with animals or people, she was more comfortable in the animal kingdom than trying to keep up in the human race. That's exactly how I am. Give me a toddler to deal with and I wouldn't know the first thing of what to do, but give me a puppy, and I'm golden.

(PS. I emailed the author of this wonderful tale the other day, and she actually responded! I'm psyched! Thank you Ms. Montgomery!)