AQUIDNECK ISLAND. THIS ONE IS PERSONAL. You know Flo’s. The fried clams. The clam cakes. The chowder. The stuffies. The unmistakable smell of a Rhode Island summer. Flo’s survived FIVE hurricanes, including the Great Hurricane of 1938. At some point, Mother Nature needed to accept that FLO WAS NOT CLOSING FOR BUSINESS.

And the original Flo’s? It started in a CHICKEN COOP moved to Island Park. Just a woman with a vision, some clams, and an absolutely unreasonable amount of determination. But here’s why this name means so much to our Director. Flo was her grandfather’s sister. He’s still with us and will turn 99 in February! She was lucky enough to know her, and some of my favorite childhood memories are watching her make stuffies. She was an incredible woman whose legacy remains part of Rhode Island life today. So when we needed a name for one of our beautiful Redbone Coonhound mix puppies? OF COURSE WE CHOSE FLO.

Ladies and gentlemen, this girl is the HEIRESS TO A SEAFOOD EMPIRE. And apparently, business is BOOMING. Six weeks ago, Flo weighed 24 pounds. Today? FORTY. ONE. POUNDS. At this rate, we’re going to need an expansion permit from the Town of Portsmouth. THE BUSINESS IS GROWING. THE LEGS ARE GROWING. THE OVERHEAD IS BECOMING A FEDERAL CONCERN.

We’ve requested a meeting with the board of directors. Flo has declined. She’s negotiating the purchase of three neighboring properties and a commercial fishing vessel.

Somewhere, we imagine the original Flo shaking her head and laughing because we’ve entrusted her good name to a puppy who apparently intends to become the largest landowner on Aquidneck Island.

This beautiful, rapidly growing girl is looking for a family ready for puppy adventures, training, laughter, and a lifetime of love. She is looking for someone with puppy experience, patience, and perhaps some familiarity with commercial real estate. Please be advised that this puppy may double as a construction project. She’s adorable, comes from an imaginary seafood dynasty, and has appointed herself CEO despite having absolutely no restaurant experience. She’s 4 months old, has no income, doesn’t know what a quahog is, and somehow, she’s already demanding a corner office with an ocean view.

But underneath all this ridiculousness is something very special. Every time we say her name, we will remember an incredible woman, a Rhode Island institution, and those childhood afternoons watching her make stuffies. Names carry stories. They bring people back to us, even for a moment. And sometimes, they give us a chance to introduce a whole new generation to someone who mattered.