Well, I was reading a story about some kind of meat labeling treaty or something discussed at the World Trade Organization (WTO). From what I could gather from the article, the U.S. insists that meat be labeled as to country of origin. This apparently had Mexico and Canada up in arms with chants of fowl play.
U.S. consumers might prefer the raised and slaughtered in the U.S. label rather than say Uruguay or some other meat producing places, like Canada and Mexico. Now as a carnivorous American, I want to know where my meat comes from. I would rather eat locally grass fed beef and cage free “home on the range” chicken and eggs. And I would like to be reasonably confident that the beef, pork and fish I consume do not also come with a broad spectrum of antibiotics, fattened by GMO grains. Of course, we can’t be sure. The irony here is that the U.S. favors labelling meat but does not favor GMO labeling.
As I read more of the article, I did find one point the Canadians made to be amusing and it went like this – because of the integrated nature of the industry, “animals might cross the border multiple times”. Now just how these animals manage to cross back and forth across the border is an intriguing question. They must do it in the stealth of night. I suppose the chickens just fly right over the border undetected. The pigs I guess dig their way across or access heavily traffic tunnels. The cattle, well I don’t know how they do it, but they might disguise themselves as tourists with fake id cards.
I do remember crossing over to Canada once and was asked if I had any pork, beef or poultry of any kind on my person and I confessed that I had just eaten a chicken club sandwich and was allowed to cross but only after guards inspected my car and documents, apparently on the look out for stray animals looking for safe roaming across the border. I was so afraid that I promised to become a vegetarian during my stay in Canada. They actually may have suspected me of being a cow, I do have a deep voice, and though I am sometimes as messy as a pig, I am not a cow, nor have I ever been.