Day-after blues

It's the day after Christmas, and I'm still in the spirit, but I seem to be alone in that. Everyone I run into in the outside world today is in a blue funk; a grrr-grump!
The friendliest coffee shop I know is deserted except for my husband and me, and then a man comes in and asks me in accusatory fashion if I took the front section of the New York Times. It seems to disappoint him that I can honestly tell him I did not, and he follows that question with, "Well, who did? SOMEONE, for sure!"
At the gym, the normally gregarious regulars don't speak. They're too busy revving themselves up to get rid of the Christmas calories, and the only words I hear aren't words, but GGGRRRUNT! Here, I make a mental note to go gently into my routine; if I'm not gentle with myself, who will be?
The post office is my next stop. I'm the only customer, yet the clerks are too busy counting money in the till to acknowledge that I'm standing there.
The traffic seems surly too... Bob and I go home.... The spirit's there...
We're greeted with obvious love and as much enthusiasm as our big, old arthritic dog Jack can manage. His body is old, but there's still a puppy in his heart. Despite his painful joints made worse by the cold, damp weather, there's not one bah-humbug in his heart. For that, he gets an extra biscuit from us.
We prop our toes in front of the woodburning stove. He stations himself in such a way as to gently settle his warm self upon the cold feet of both of us... simultaneously. And the spirit is back.
We'd better bottle it for future reference.
Happy day-after to you all from two old people and an old dog... still young inside!
Sincerely, R.A.T. (Rose About Town)