My name is Allie. Our family dog who passed away a few years ago was named Halle. As a result, I spent ages 7 to 19 being confused with a giant schnauzer.

For 12 years, my family accused me dropping bits of kibble around the house, slobbering on things with my wet beard, and more.

Mom: Dammit, Allie. IS YOUR BUTT IN AN UPROAR AGAIN?

Me: Huh? No! I’m not buttstinking right now.

Mom: Not you, the dog! Goddamn you, Halle!

Me: Don’t yell at her! She can’t help when she gets excited. A bit of buttstink never hurt no one.

Mom: NO, NOW I’M YELLING AT YOU! GET IN YOUR HOUSE.*

*We call dog crates “houses” where I’m from. Why you think I’m so classy?

Needless to say, Halle and I connected on a deep level. Not only did we almost share a name, but Halle was also my drug huffing enabler, my cuddle buddy (not to be confused with a cuddy buddy), and my German language tutor. She was my girl.

Don’t get it twisted, I love Chico (our 3-year-old mini schnauzer) just as much as Halle. He’s my dude.

But, besides the fact that my name isn’t Rico, Chico spends about half of his time living the good life on the Connecticut shore. I need a dog that’ll ride with me 24/7 in the Maine hood woods. I need my own dog. (And Chico needs a friend! Or cuddy buddy, whateva.)

You may remember that last September I wrote a blog post begging my parents to let me get a puppy. I’m not sure if my argument was persuasive or my parents just got sick of my moping, but either way they gave in. The only stipulation was that the dog had to be small.

As soon as my parents gave me the go ahead, I started filling out adoption applications, stalking Craigslist and PetFinder, and dreaming doggy dreams. It was during these puppypalooza that I discovered mini labradoodles.

Mini labradoodles are the sweet lovechild of labrador retrievers and miniature poodles. They’re like fuzzy ass muppets that don’t shed much and (most likely) like to swim. After finding a mini labradoodle breeder near my crib, I also discovered that they’re real popular and real expensive.

I knew I couldn’t afford one, but I thought I might be able to strike up a deal with the breeders — my website/photography services for one of their puppies. They went for it, and for the past couple of months I’ve been building them a new site.

It took me a while to believe the trade would actually go through, but the puppy’s been born, the site is up and running, and the breeder’s still down to deal. If you want to check out the site and/or precious puppies, Google “Adorable Down East Labradoodles”. I’d include a link to the site, but I’m teaching the breeder (Gerry) how to use Google Analytics soon, and I don’t want him to see referrals from classygallie.com. Dude does not need to know about my buttstink or rockets in my pockets or anything I’ve written on this site, really.

Little Charles Barnacle the mini labradoodle will be coming home with me in the beginning of June.

I guess there’s still time for something to go wrong with the deal, but if the text Gerry sent me the first day the new site went live is a sign, I think we’re okay. Just as a reminder, we’ve been exchanging daily emails for months and he knows my name is Allie.