On October 4, 2015, my family adopted Burbank, a mixed Chesapeake Bay-Rottweiler dog. From that day on, my best friend had four paws, a tail, and floppy ears. We were inseparable (well, more like I would always be around him). He used to sleep in my room, and we would watch TV shows and movies together on the couch. I would play with him in the backyard, take him on car rides with the windows rolled down so he could sniff the air blowing past, and teach him new tricks.
I knew that going to college would be challenging because I wouldn’t see him every day. However, I also ended up going to the furthest college I applied to, which didn’t make it any easier. When the day came to drive to Cincinnati, I couldn’t hold back tears as I said goodbye to Burbank. He was about 12 years old at this time, but I still called him my puppy. After moving in, I made it a routine to FaceTime my parents every few days just to see him. If we didn’t FaceTime, my parents would send me a picture of him.
But the truth was, he was an old dog. He had wisps of white hair come in on his face for a couple years at that point and throughout our time with him, he faced multiple health issues. January 2023 is when things changed drastically. We had never seen him in worse shape; he could barely walk and, at times, was refusing to eat. A couple days before going back for my second semester of college, I was physically lifting my 80-pound puppy in and out of the car to go to the vet.
He got better though, managing to tag along for the road trip in May for my two sisters’ college graduations. I spent the entire summer with him trying to ignore that he wasn’t doing his best. I had to help him down the stairs and even help him eat at times. By August, I hesitated to leave because my sisters and parents had hinted that it might be one of the last few times I’d see him.
After I had moved back into my apartment and started the new semester, I received a message from my parents. They said he really hadn’t been doing well and had to be put down. I was devastated. I got to FaceTime him one last time and say goodbye. It took me weeks to come to terms with his death. I often felt the urge to call my parents and ask to see Burbank, only to remember he wasn’t at home anymore.
If you’ve ever experienced the loss of a pet while away at college, I am so sorry and I know it sucks. However, having great friends and roommates can help you get through it. Personally, I found some peace in volunteering at the animal shelter near my university, interacting with other dogs and remembering my own dog who was in a similar position before we rescued him. Even though he’s the only dog I’ve ever had, he was the best dog ever.