Eat a pound of beef a day, every day for a year, and one animal dies. One bullock, two years out on grass, a bolt to the forehead and gone before the sound reaches him. Eat a pound of pork a day for a year and 3 pigs die. Most go down a lift into a pit of carbon dioxide. It burns the nose and throat, they fight to climb out, and it takes the best part of a minute to put them under. Eat a pound of lamb a day for a year and 8 lambs die. Stunned, cut, done inside a second. Eat a pound of salmon a day for a year and 55 fish die, plus the sardines they were fed. The lucky ones are clubbed. The rest have the gills cut while awake, or are gassed, and fight it for up to nine minutes. Eat a pound of chicken a day for a year and 75 birds die. Hung upside down by the legs on a moving line, dragged head first through an electrified bath, then the blade. Some arch their necks, miss the water, and meet the blade awake. Eat a pound of prawns a day for a year and 15,000 die. In the trawl they are crushed and left to asphyxiate on the deck. In the farm, their mother has her eyestalk cut off to make her lay. Eat a pound of bread a day for a year and nobody can give you a number. Field mice, voles and nesting birds go through the combine in July. In Germany alone the mowers cut around 90,000 roe deer fawns in half every May. Round the grain store the rats take the poison and bleed to death inside for a week. Eat a pound of rice a day for a year and the paddy is flooded, drained and sprayed, and everything in the water goes with it. Frogs, fish, snakes, the lot. Then the stubble is burned. The bullock had a number on an ear tag and a man who checked on him every morning. The field mouse had a combine. The only animal on the list that was looked in the eye before it died is the one you have been told to feel guilty about.