My grandmother's family were mule raisers in the Ozarks of Missouri. She said her fathers quote was, "Mules are just as easy to handle as horses .... once you smack them hard enough on the head to get their attention."
Grandma rode a mule to school and into town for supplies. She said she had never ridden a horse.
I had another old friend, Miss Agnes, born in 1899, who rode a mule bareback to school in Surry, VA and when she got home her job was to take it out to the field, change out the plow mule they had been using all day, and take the tired mule back to the barn, clean, water, and feed it. When telling me about her youth, she told me something that I had never thought of - when she was a girl, schools had a fenced in field with a big water trough where your horse or mule would graze while you were is school. There was a tack shed on the side of the school for your feed bag and saddles, etc.
She and her husband had horses on the farm, which I rode when I visited almost every weekend to help out as Claude and Agnes aged. They figured they bought the horses before the war (WWII) and I rode them until they died in the late 60's. I still have one of the saddles, a couple of the mule collars, a pony cart, and some other tack, as well as other stuff from the farm. It's all around 100 years old.
Miss Agnes was an amazing woman with a special bond with animals. She would talk to animals and they would seem to understand her. She could calm down any upset or injured animal in minutes. When she was in her 60's, I saw her go out to the pasture to get Papa, the stud bull, talk in his ear, grab his horns, and pull herself up on his back to ride him back to his pen. Papa must have weighed a good 2000 pounds. I would get in the pen with him for cleaning and feeding, but kept a wary eye on Papa. Miss Agnes would walk in, pat him on the rump and side, rub his ears, and hug him while talking in his ear before working in the pen.