Parelli horsemanship and other methods that promote the idea of 'winning' and dominance do a great disservice to both horse and rider in their care.

Every time I hear someone say they need to “win” during the training of their horse I shudder. I remember feeling that way once when I was 10 years old and didn't know any better. But then you grow up and learn new tools that don't require you to create a no-win situation for your horse in order to train him.

I want to share some words from by Burt Smith in his book Moving ‘Em: A Guide to Low Stress Animal Handling

Let me share with you one of those turning point type of experiences that occurred to me while I was owner/operator of an open range outfit in Central Nevada during the late 60's. This particular even was not typical, but it is indicative of the way I and most of my neighbors worked cattle at that time and place.

… Late one afternoon, my father had gathered up a little bunch from behind Potato Peak and brought them down by Ferguson, an abandoned ranch about 5 miles south and west of our headquarters. As he neared the corrals, a deer hunter, who often used the Ferguson as a base camp, came out to help, waving his arms and shouting. At this point two things happened. I topped a rise about a half mile away where I could see what was happening, and one slat-eyed cow took a look at that hunter and headed for points south. Dad had his hands full trying to get the rest of the bunch past the hunter and couldn't stop her. Normally I would have let her go, as she was headed in the general direction of Grubb's flat, which was the winter feed grounds. Except for one thing.

This particular cow was one that had eluded all my attempts at capture since I had purchased the ranch some five years prior. She, (“She” was her name, in fact one of several names, but the rest of them were not for the fainthearted), normally hung out near the top of Snow Water Canyon and whenever She saw a rider, she would make right for the top of one of the two adjoining peaks. Both peaks were such that to run a horse up there was to court certain disaster and while I often did dumb things (like running mustangs), running a horse on a talus slope around a mountain top chasing a wild cow was not one of them.

… A year or so later I jumped her on the other side of Buck Mountain and after a chase through rock piles, ledges, pinion pine and willow thickets, that would have elicited at least mild interest of a Texas brush popper, I finally hazed her onto the flats where She, finally winded, became more or less manageable. I spent the rest of the afternoon training her some five or so miles to a small wire corral that had both water and a loading chute. After tying up all the gates I rode back over the mountain, arriving home about 10 that night. Before dawn, I got the truck and drove some 55 miles around the mountain to pick her up. Needless to say, She had busted out. From her tracks I could tell that she had headed home, back to Snow Water Canyon. There wasn't anything to do but head for home and try not to fester too much along the way.

Now, thanks to this new opportunity, sweet revenge was at hand. Had She just gone into the corral, all would have been forgiven (I think). But, bless her heart, she raised her head and pranced off, extremely confident in her abilities to outwit the likes of me. But this time She was wrong! The only hitch was that the colt I was riding had no experience with ropes. That only raised the ante. I put the spurs to the colt.

She saw me coming and, with but a moments hesitation, swerved and headed up Squatters canyon. Which, unfortunately for her, contained one moderate sized tree, the only canyon so blessed out of the several she could have chosen. We thundered up the canyon. A small rutted road made it easy to catch up with her. No jumping over logs, around rocks, or across gullies as in our last encounter. As we neared the tree I dropped my loop over her head. I spurred the colt and broke out just in front of her, reined up, jumped off, and took a dally around the tree; at that point She skidded to a stop and turned. I was standing on the ground, there were a couple of dallies around the tree, and one very wise, but angry old cow, horns glinting in the sun, standing quite still, looking me straight in the eye about 20 feet away.

Talk about a pregnant pause. After a year or so, she charged. I awoke just in time to swing behind the tree but She hooked part of my shirt and gleefully carried it off flowing over her head as a trophy of our most recent encounter. She didn't look back, the rope apparently forgotten. She hit the end of the line with all the momentum she could muster, and with a sickening crack — broke her neck.

My instantaneous feeling was one of triumph, quickly followed by the realization that I had just lost a bunch of very hard to come by dollars. I gathered up my rope, caught the horse and rode slowly back to the corral. About half way there I was filled with remorse. A feeling that has been with me, to one degree or another, ever since.

I had broken the contract. I had let personal feelings dictate my actions every time we encountered. Not once did I ever turn and simply ride off, without first giving chase. My father, bumbling and slow as I thought of him when it came to herding cattle, had almost corralled her and, except for the antics of a well meaning hunter, would have. She had fulfilled her part of the contract, She had, in spite of her wildness, given me a calf every year. In fact, as I learned the next day, She had renewed her end of it, for she had been pregnant. I, in return, had caused her death simply to show her who was boss. I sure enough showed her.

Burt Smith, Moving ‘Em: A Guide to Low Stress Animal Handling

Equestrians retaliate against and try to exact revenge on their horses every day, but it isn't called revenge; it's called dominance or punishment. And horses do get injured because of this.

Think twice before investing in trainers and training methods that promote this kind of mindset. That you must win, show dominance at all times, show your horse who is the boss. Those that argue you can't hurt the horse because they are so much larger than you.

Not only do they put your horse at risk, they also do a great disservice to you as an equestrian by not giving you the tools to train your horse without pushing them into fight or flight.

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