When I was a little kid, one of my jobs was to go on down to the hog pen and toss in the corncobs, watermelon rinds, etc from dinner into their feeding trough. The hogs were NOT friendly. They always scared me, especially since I was told to keep my hands well away from them.
In contrast, I would then take my clothesline rope and go to the other side of the road and call the bull. He would come over to the gate, and I would loop the clothesline through the ring on his nose, and lead him over to the barn side of the road. He would follow like a giant puppydog.
Trivia: I remember watching our bull's testicles getting measured. I was told that the bigger the testicles, the more virile the bull. <-- Turns out that is fargin gospel.