I saw my alarm clock and looked at the time. I had a couple of more minutes. I wanted to go back to sleep, but my eyes wouldn't stay shut. I heard sobbing. Moment before when I was half awake, I heard laughter. I heard footsteps near my door. My mom had walked in with tears in her eyes, and swollen lips from sobbing and crying out. “ Oslo died”. I didn’t cry, I didn't feel like drops had to come from my eyes. I knew what my role would be at that moment. I got up from my bed and hugged my mom, rubbing and patting her back. She went to my brother's room to tell him, and I walked downstairs to console my sisters. One was in shock, they couldn't believe it. The other one was on the couch, crying. I felt bad because I didn't cry like they did, I more so felt bad for my family. This was one of my first encounters with grief. I reacted how I knew how, to console and comfort people. The way he had passed was really harsh, and not the ideal way. My very dramatic grandma was the only one there for the incident. He was coughing up blood, and having a seizure. Tumors had appeared on his body way before, they knew it as coming soon. He was a 17 year old husky who was deaf, and could barely walk. 
The drive was silent to my grandma’s. I didn't know what music was appropriate for the time, so I put classical on. “Carnivals of Animals” was playing through my earbuds. I tried breaking the silence with gum and water. I reflected on my thoughts. I wasn't sad, more so at peace for him. He didn't have to suffer anymore. It was still sorrowful, but I knew he would have tranquility now that he didn't suffer. We got to my grandma's house. It was a fairly hot day, and you could hear the bugs and bird chirping. His lifeless body was near the front door. I saw my uncle crying, which was the first I’ve seen him. I hugged all of my family members there. It was silent without the sound of his paws on the wood floor. There was no tension in the room, only sorrow and the sound of birds and flies swarming around.