My dad made a poem about my turtle (he ate a moth yesterday):

Alice has a tortle
he really makes me chortle,
she an him are windy
use him for a bindi
even though their stink aint bad
when they close the door you’re glad
but stinky turts and girls are good
when they be doin what they should
taken care of them who stumble
eatin moths and stayin humble.

Dadaroonie