Lawmakers Advance Controversial New Medieval Practitioner Role

Salem, OR

Following a spectacular demonstration on the State Legislature's floor this Tuesday, Oregon lawmakers are poised to vote on the creation of a controversial (not entirely) new position within veterinary medicine: medieval practitioner.

HB1387—the so-called "Return to Roots" bill—would create a licensed role for people practicing the arts of medieval veterinary medicine–which incidentally relies heavily on roots and other herbal remedies. The proposed legislation was introduced by state representative Blair Templeton (R-Tillamook).

"This new law will give Oregon's citizens the right to choose how they treat their animals. It's about freedom of choice and purging toxic miasmas lingering over modern veterinary medicine," Templeton said in a statement from the Capitol building's steps. He's also gone on record to say that he was influenced to write the bill after receiving medieval veterinary care from local practitioner William H. Sprucecock IV, who performed various "traditional" rituals and treatments on the floor of the Oregon State Capitol.

The demonstrations included a blood transfusion between a live goat and dog without sterilization, pre-administration cross-matching, or an (apparent) understanding of cardiovascular physiology.

"Behold! As I transfer the essence of capricornius into the mongrel beast!", shouted Sprucecock IV as he inserted a lead tube into the animals's veins. Remarkably, both survived the procedure.

Templeton reportedly became convinced of the necessity of this practice after Sprucecock IV administered leeches and purgatives to his shih tzu when treating her flea allergy dermatitis.

The self-described "disciple of the mode of operation of Publius Flavius Vegetius Renatus" responded to the SP's inquiries on the legitimacy of medieval practice via sealed parchments, making the following statement: "For noteth do the caprine humours befoul the divine, unless be it unequal to thy twelfth moon of August."

The current proposition is expected to adhere to the principles of animal health as codified between the 5th and 15th century. In a previous press release, advocates have complained that modern veterinary medicine—which underwent regulation starting in the Enlightenment—is too science-based, restricting access to traditional and spiritual forms of healing.

Medford resident Brynne Culforth, who operates a small herd of goats intended for ritualistic sacrifice, was relieved to see the state legislature taking action to address what she sees an inequities in access to wiccan-based veterinary care.

"As a believer in the role of evil spirits in animal disease, I'm so thankful that I can finally choose my preferred form of veterinary medicine," she said while casting a series of St. Bartholomew's lamentations over his herd.

However, the new law has its detractors.

“Why on Earth do we need this? Seriously? Alchemy!?” said Dr. Kent Purpecker, a mixed animal veterinarian from Redmond, as well as spokesperson for the American Association of Veterinary Spokespeople.

Indeed, while some have criticized the state legislature for capitalizing on voter confusion regarding other newly proposed veterinary roles such as the midlevel practitioner in Colorado, polling of the bill suggests broad support.

"I'm sick of Big Pharma and Big Kibble controlling all of our options," said pet owner Erica Sandrosen. "Maybe instead of throwing antibiotics at everything, we could try a little more henbane. What's the harm?" When questioned about her understanding of the toxic, anticholinergic effects of henbane, Mrs. Sandrosen countered by loudly exclaiming, "You don't know everything, science man!" and slammed her door.

While the specifics of the bill are unfortunately written in an undecipherable codex originating in a 12th century Milanese catacomb, this has not prevented it's progress through the legislature. Templeton is optimistic, saying, "We've read the bones, it's totally gonna pass."

Lawmakers will vote next Thursday.