I don’t like to talk about my service. I try not to think about it too much either. That latter is harder, because the nightmares . . . well, PTSD is a bitch, let’s leave it at that. Shameless is not, technically, an assistance dog, but he serves in that duty anyway. He wakes me from the dreams with a cold nose and wagging tail, runs with me when I have to burn off excess energy, and leans into me and lets me hold him when I’m shaky or a little paranoid.
My current problems came as a result of a morning run after a night of shattered sleep. It was early. The first hints of pink and orange were barely tinting the edge of the clouds on the eastern horizon. The moon was still bright and visible in the sky. It was not quite full, but certainly enough to see by, particularly since Heroes’ Park is well lit 24/7 — to light the monuments, yes, but more in a (vain) attempt to inhibit crime.
Heroes Park is a fairly new addition to Denver. The put it in when they tore down an old school and abandoned hospital next to Sloan’s Lake Park in 2025. It was meant to honor veterans and patriots who put down the 2021 uprising. But it’s close to Colfax Avenue, and the homeless (many of them veterans with “issues”) like to sleep there. Drug dealers do business in the shadows of the various statues in “off” hours when the park is supposedly closed, in between the police patrols which are supposed to be random, but really aren’t. Don’t get me wrong, the cops do their best. But it’s a game of numbers and they are frequently both outnumbered and outgunned.
On the very borderline of night and oncoming day I didn’t expect to find much going on. The sleepers would be sleeping and most of the crooks weren’t liable to be up and about for a couple of hours yet–and those would be the early risers. That’s what I thought.
Sometimes I can be remarkably short-sighted.
I don’t like to talk about my service. I try not to think about it too much either. That latter is harder, because the nightmares . . . well, PTSD is a bitch, let’s leave it at that. Shameless is not, technically, an assistance dog, but he serves in that duty anyway. He wakes me from the dreams with a cold nose and wagging tail, runs with me when I have to burn off excess energy, and leans into me and lets me hold him when I’m shaky or a little paranoid.
My current problems came as a result of a morning run after a night of shattered sleep. It was early. The first hints of pink and orange were barely tinting the edge of the clouds on the eastern horizon. The moon was still bright and visible in the sky. It was not quite full, but certainly enough to see by, particularly since Heroes’ Park is well lit 24/7 — to light the monuments, yes, but more in a (vain) attempt to inhibit crime.
Heroes Park is a fairly new addition to Denver. The put it in when they tore down an old school and abandoned hospital next to Sloan’s Lake Park in 2025. It was meant to honor veterans and patriots who put down the 2021 uprising. But it’s close to Colfax Avenue, and the homeless (many of them veterans with “issues”) like to sleep there. Drug dealers do business in the shadows of the various statues in “off” hours when the park is supposedly closed, in between the police patrols which are supposed to be random, but really aren’t. Don’t get me wrong, the cops do their best. But it’s a game of numbers and they are frequently both outnumbered and outgunned.
On the very borderline of night and oncoming day I didn’t expect to find much going on. The sleepers would be sleeping and most of the crooks weren’t liable to be up and about for a couple of hours yet–and those would be the early risers. That’s what I thought.
Sometimes I can be remarkably short-sighted.
Recent Comments