Sir Galahad

I'm longboarding home after a good day at work. It's kinda warm outside, upper 60's, maybe 70 degrees. A gentle breeze wafts through my hair, cooling me off. I look down at the pavement. The curb is moving at a good 6-8 mph. Perfect. Then, movement. Surprised, I quickly loop around. Bending over where it happened, I peer into the gravel. There, a small reptile is battling for life. Struggling in the gravel a brave young turtle, 2 days old, tops, fights for his way in this harsh world. Lovingly, I hoist him up into my strong fingers. I then delicately grasp him as I make my way to my place of dwelling, soon to be his as well. Approximately 8 minutes later I arrive at my abode and hurriedly walk up the stairs. He needs shelter. A place of refuge. There. I spot a cardboard box in the corner. I empty it's contents and place the young solider inside. Now, He needs habitat. I grab the box and head back outside. Putting the box down, I scoop up a good amount of sand and dirt. I pour it in the box. Then, for some scenery, I pluck some weeds, some little Dandies, and place them upright in the box. Perfect. I head back upstairs. He needs water. I grab a shallow dish, fill it with water, and place it amongst the outdoor scene-in-a-box i have just created. Food. What does he crave? Meat? Veggies? Cheese? All of the above I place in his home, in bite-sized morsels, of course. Now, a name. What type of name do you give such a magnificent creature, whose battle scars remind you of your grandfather? Sir Galahad. Perfect.