This is Betsy:
She was about 9 years old in this picture, and in a way, life for her began then. She had basically had no training at all; apparently her previous owners had just wrestled her into whatever they wanted to do with her. The person who gave her to me was told she could be ridden or driven. Once I figured out that that person was living on Fantasy Island, Betsy and I stumbled back to square one, and I had her doing leadline pony work with my kids within a couple of weeks . . . which was about the time she stopped hassling the goats.
When I brought Betsy home, my goats weren't sure what that thing was, but of one thing they were sure - it
must eat goats. Betsy did her best to convince them that they were right about that; she chased them at every opportunity. I'm not sure how serious she was about it, maybe for her it was just a game, but I wound up fishing Moon out of the duck pond twice the first day (and you know how much goats hate water!) By the time she eased up, those pointy headed problem children had the Rule of Mule firmly ingrained in their minds. I have two miniature horses that outrank Betsy in the "horse herd," but though the goat are pretty cheeky with the miniature horses, when Betsy moves in, the goats move out! Even Spike, a tall, lanky dairy-mix wether that was a incorrigible bully where the other goats were concerned, needed just a glare from Betsy to make up his mind to go find something else to do.
Though there have been chickens free-ranging in the goat/mini paddock for as long as she has lived here, I can't say that I remember Betsy every chasing the chickens. Maybe they are too fast for her to waste her energy on them (mules are smart like that). I have seen her trying to stomp on ducks, though - and I have reason to believe she has injured a few of them. And if she didn't kill that raccoon last year, it wasn't for lack of trying.

A couple of months ago, I saw a fox looking in through the fence while I was out working in the yard. The horses saw it too, and stood looking at it for some time. All but Betsy. She looked, then walked slowly and deliberately over to the fence where the fox had been. And stood looking for quite a while. Good thing for the fox he didn't go in the fence.