“All days are tough”

Yesterday morning (Tuesday, December 25th, 2012, Christmas-Day) I took my dog to nearby Boughton Park (“BOW-tin;” as in “wow,” not “boh” or “boo”).
The dog loves it. Smells galore, and lots of deer-pucky to eat. It’s a gigantic wooded park.
Every morning I get harassed by my dog wanting me to take her to Boughton Park.
I have to leash her there, lest she get lost chasing a deer — it’s happened.
Our walk is about four miles, and during it we came upon “Bailey,” a rescue-mutt owned by a park regular.
The lady who owns Bailey knows my circumstances, that my wife died over eight months ago.
Yet my dog and Bailey don’t see eye-to-eye. Encounter Bailey, and I have to get past without a Mexican standoff.
This happens with every dog I meet. My dog is not that unfriendly, but can be.
I don’t think she’s ever bit, but she snaps.
For whatever reason she always snaps at Bailey, and that’s despite his deer-in-the-headlights look.
I don’t want my dog terrorizing Bailey.
“This is your first Christmas without your wife,” Bailey’s owner said.
SNAP! “Let’s go you monster!” I had to keep going.
Returning down the path I encountered Bailey again coming back up the path.
Knowing the possibility of another Mexican standoff, Bailey’s owner took him off to the side.
As I passed, “There’s one thing you should know,” I said to her.
“Christmas won’t be that tough. All days are tough.”

• My current dog is “Scarlett” (two “Ts,” as in Scarlett O’Hara), a rescue Irish-Setter. She’s seven, and is my sixth Irish-Setter, a high-energy dog. (A “rescue Irish Setter” is an Irish Setter rescued from a bad home; e.g. abusive or a puppy-mill. [Scarlett was from a failed backyard breeder.] By getting a rescue-dog, we avoid puppydom, but the dog is often messed up. —Scarlett isn't bad. She’s my fourth rescue.)
• Boughton Park is a fairly-large town park in East Bloomfield where I walk my dog. I live in the small rural town of West Bloomfield, southeast of Rochester.