[Spock continues to watch the 'dog' with much curiosity...]

It is a Vulcan lyre. It is an stringed instrument that was native to my home planet... it is fortune that I have managed to construct one... I find it rather...

...soothing.

[Indeed, it had served to be a excellent meditative device.
With must amusement in watching the small creature bound around his yard, Spock turns to Beast, and tilts his head in concern at his expression.]
Are you well?