A Proper Irish Saturday With the Dog: From Beach Runs to GAA Matches (And All the Gear You Actually Need)
By Cupooch
Photo by @madradogrescue
6:15 AM - The Saturday Lie-In (That Isn't)
Right, so it's Saturday. The one day I don't set an alarm. The one day I could theoretically sleep until noon if I wanted.
Except Finn doesn't understand "Saturday."
He's standing beside the bed doing that thing where he breathes loudly through his nose. Not quite whining. Not quite silent. Just... PRESENT. Aggressively present.
"Finn. It's six in the morning."
Huff.
"On a SATURDAY."
Huff huff.
"Fine. But you're lucky you're gorgeous."
He is, too. Rescue Collie mix – black and white, one ear up and one ear down, eyes that could convince you to rob a bank if he asked nicely. Got him from MADRA in Galway two years ago, and he's been running my life ever since.
I roll out of bed, throw on yesterday's leggings (don't judge me), and grab my gear. This is where being organized actually matters, because morning Aoife is not capable of complex thought.
Everything lives in my Ascal Bag – the sling bag that's basically saved my life. It's got multiple pockets, sits across your body (hands-free, crucial), and holds EVERYTHING: phone, keys, treats, poop bags, water, snacks for me, basically my entire life.
I clip the CuClip onto Finn's lead – it's a brilliant little yoke that holds poop bags AND treats. Two compartments, one clip. Simple but genius. No more fumbling in pockets while your dog is pulling you toward something deceased.
"Beach?" I ask Finn.
He does a full-body wiggle. That's a yes.
6:45 AM - Sandymount Beach (The Best Hour of the Week)
This is it. This is why we get up at stupid o'clock on a Saturday.
Sandymount at sunrise is MAGIC. Empty beach, pink sky, tide out revealing miles of sand. Finn off-lead, tearing across the beach like he's been personally insulted by the horizon and needs to address it immediately.
I've got the CuHurl with me and a pocket full of CuBalls. The leather balls are perfect for beach use – they don't get waterlogged like tennis balls (which we've established are the devil), they're bright yellow so I can actually SEE them, and they're tough enough to handle Finn's enthusiasm.
"Finn! Ready?"
He plants himself, focused like he's about to compete in the Olympics of fetch.
I swing the CuHurl and the ball FLIES. Fifty meters, easy. Finn is OFF like a shot, kicking up sand, pure joy in physical form.
Chase the craic, not the kilos, right? We're both getting exercise, both having the craic, and neither of us is thinking about anything except THIS moment.
We do this for twenty minutes. Throw, sprint, retrieve, repeat. The sun's coming up properly now, turning the whole beach gold. There's a few other early-morning dog people – we nod at each other in that "we're all mad but we understand why" way.
Finn's panting, happy pants, covered in sand, are absolutely knackered. Perfect.
Then he spots it. A dead crab. Partially decomposed. He LUNGES.
"Finn, NO!"
Too late. He's rolling. Full-body, ecstatic rolling on the deceased crab.
"For FECK'S sake, Finn!"
This is why I bring the CuBowl – the foldable water bowl. I fill it from my water bottle and rinse him off as best I can. He's still manky, but at least he's not ACTIVELY DECEASED-SMELLING.
"You're getting a bath when we get home."
He doesn't care. He's had the best morning of his life and zero regrets.
We head back to the car. I use the CuPouch – the wet bag with two pockets – to store his lead and the used CuBalls (both sandy and damp). One pocket for wet/dirty stuff, one for clean stuff. Keeps the car from becoming a biohazard.
8:30 AM - Home, Breakfast, and the Bath of Shame
Finn gets hosed down in the back garden. He looks at me like I'm the villain in this scenario, despite the fact that HE'S the one who rolled in death.
"You did this to yourself, mate."
After his bath, breakfast. I measure his food properly (no eyeballing – we're not having the obesity conversation again), and he inhales it in his usual 3.2 seconds.
I make myself a proper fry – rashers, sausages, egg, toast. Finn sits beside me radiating hope that I'll drop something.
I don't. But I pretend I'm going to, just to watch his face light up. I'm cruel like that.
10:00 AM - Farmers Market (Chaos in Dog Form)
Right, so I need groceries, and the local farmers market is brilliant. It's also MENTAL on Saturday mornings. People everywhere, dogs everywhere, kids everywhere. It's controlled chaos.
This is where the Ascal Bag really proves its worth. Hands-free is ESSENTIAL when you're trying to navigate crowds, hold a lead, and buy vegetables simultaneously.
Finn is brilliant in crowds – he's well-socialized and generally sound – but he's also INTERESTED in EVERYTHING. That artisan cheese? Fascinating. Those organic carrots? Must investigate. The woman with the Dachshund? NEW BEST FRIEND ALERT.
"Finn, heel."
He does, mostly. We're working on it.
I buy vegetables, bread, some fancy cheese I don't need but want, and dog treats from the woman who makes them locally (supporting Irish businesses, aren't we great?).
The treat lady asks about Finn's bandana – he's wearing the MADRA Charity Reflective Bandana. It's high-vis (safety first), supports the rescue that saved him, and makes him look class. Win-win-win.
"He's gorgeous! What breed?"
"Collie mix. Rescue from MADRA."
"Ah, lovely! They do brilliant work."
We chat for a minute about dog rescue, local businesses, and the weather (mild enough for October). This is peak Irish social interaction – polite, friendly, centered on dogs.
Then Finn spots a child with an ice cream.
"Finn, NO."
I pull him away before he can commit ice cream theft. The child is unharmed but suspicious.
11:30 AM - Impromptu Forest Walk (Because We've Nothing Better To Do)
On the way home, I pass Ticknock Forest. It's a gorgeous day (by Irish standards – only slightly threatening rain), and I think "ah, go on so."
We park up and head into the forest. This is where proper gear makes a difference.
The foldable poop scooper lives in my car boot. It's BRILLIANT – folds flat (doesn't take up space), opens in seconds, and means I'm not bending down like an eejit trying to pick up shite with a flimsy bag. Just scoop, bag, done. Your back will thank you.
The trails are beautiful – pine forests, mountain views, proper Irish countryside. Finn's in heaven. New smells, new terrain, other dogs to sniff hello.
We meet a couple with two Spaniels and a Labrador. The dogs do their sniffing ritual while the humans chat.
"What's that yoke?" The man points at my CuHurl, which is strapped to the Ascal Bag.
Oh, he's ASKED. Now I get to evangelize.
"CuHurl. Ball thrower, inspired by hurling. Throws fifty meters, dual-ball capability, no slobber pickup, Irish-made, recycled plastic."
I sound like a commercial. I don't care. I'm PASSIONATE about proper fetch.
"Can I try it?"
"Go on so."
He throws it. His Lab goes MENTAL. Retrieves it perfectly. The man looks at me like I've shown him the secrets of the universe.
"Where'd you get it?"
"CuPooch. Irish company. They've a whole range – bags, bowls, balls, the lot. Sound gear for sound dogs."
I'm not being paid for this recommendation (well, I am for writing this blog, but not for random forest conversations). I'm just genuinely convinced that CuPooch makes life with dogs EASIER.
The couple thanks me and heads off, probably to Google CuPooch the second they get signal.
1:00 PM - Lunch Stop (The Dog-Friendly Café)
By now we're both hungry. There's a café near Ticknock that's dog-friendly – outdoor seating, water bowls provided, they don't mind dogs at all.
I order a toastie and a coffee. Finn gets water in the CuBowl I brought. The café has bowls, but mine folds up and goes back in the bag when we're done. No fuss.
A woman at the next table has a German Shepherd who's VERY interested in Finn. They do the dog introduction dance (sniff, wag, play bow, mutual decision that they're friends).
"Is that the MADRA bandana?" she asks.
"It is, yeah!"
"I got my girl from MADRA too! Three years ago."
We end up chatting for twenty minutes about dog rescue, training, the challenges of high-energy breeds, and the best dog-friendly spots around Dublin.
This is what I love about dogs – instant community. You've got this built-in conversation starter and social connection. I've met more people through Finn than I ever did without him.
3:00 PM - The Nephew's GAA Match (Where Dogs Are Surprisingly Welcome)
My nephew Cian is playing Under-12s hurling today, and I've promised my sister I'd come watch. Normally I'd leave Finn at home for this, but it's outdoors, it's casual, and dogs are allowed at the pitch (as long as they're on lead and not interfering with play).
This is where the Stop-a-Dog device comes in handy. It's basically an ultrasonic bark deterrent – if Finn starts barking (at other dogs, at the ref, at controversial line calls), I can use it to redirect his attention. Not cruel, just a high-pitched sound only dogs hear. Works brilliantly for training.
Though in fairness, Finn's pretty chill. He lies beside me on the sideline, watching the match with the intensity of someone who's never seen a sliotar before.
Cian scores a point. I cheer. Finn barks once in solidarity.
"Good boy! Up the parish!"
The match is grand – they win by three points. Cian is delighted. My sister brings him over to say hello to Finn (they're best mates, obviously).
"Can Finn come to the celebration?"
"Where's the celebration?"
"The pub. They've outdoor seating."
"Go on so."
5:00 PM - The Dog-Friendly Pub (Peak Irish Weekend Energy)
The local GAA club has essentially taken over the pub's beer garden. Dogs, kids, adults, all celebrating the win. It's controlled chaos and it's brilliant.
Finn is LOVING this. Multiple people to pet him, dropped chips to hoover up (I try to stop him, but there's only so much I can do), other dogs to make friends with.
I've got a pint (well-deserved after a day of dog activities), and I'm chatting to other dog owners about the usual topics: training challenges, vet bills, the funniest things our dogs have done.
Someone asks about my setup – the Ascal Bag, the CuHurl strapped to it, the general organization.
"You look PREPARED," she says.
"Two years of trial and error," I tell her. "I used to just throw shite in my pockets and hope for the best. Now I've got a system."
"What's in the bag?"
I empty it like I'm doing show-and-tell:
- Poop bags (multiple – you ALWAYS need more than you think)
- CuClip with treats and spare bags
- CuPouch for wet/dirty items
- Foldable CuBowl
- Phone, keys, wallet (the human essentials)
- Small first aid kit (for me AND Finn)
- Portable water bottle
- Snacks (again, for both of us)
"That's... actually genius."
"It's called learning from mistakes. I once got caught two miles from home with no poop bags and a dog with explosive diarrhea. Never again."
Everyone at the table winces in sympathy. We've ALL been there.
7:30 PM - Evening Walk (The Quiet One)
After the pub, we head home. Finn's had a MASSIVE day – beach, market, forest, GAA match, pub. He should be knackered.
He's not. He's a Collie mix. They're built different.
"One more walk?"
Tail wag. That's a yes.
We do a quiet evening loop around the neighborhood. Nothing fancy. Just a chance to decompress.
This is when I use the CuPouch again – storing his lead when we get to the green space where he can go off-lead, keeping my hands free.
A few neighbors are out with their dogs doing the same thing. We nod, chat briefly, let the dogs sniff each other. It's peaceful.
The sun's setting now (early, because it's October and Ireland). We head home.
8:30 PM - Dinner and Documentary (The Chill Phase)
Finally. FINALLY. Finn is tired.
He's sprawled on the couch (he's not allowed on the couch, but that rule died about eighteen months ago) while I make dinner and put on a David Attenborough documentary.
He watches it with surprising interest. Dogs on screen? Fascinating. Lions? Moderately concerning. Penguins? Unclear what they are but worth monitoring.
I eat my dinner. He's already eaten his. We're both content.
This is the payoff, isn't it? You put in the work – the early wake-up, the exercise, the socialization, the training – and you get THIS. A tired, happy, well-adjusted dog who's content to just BE with you.
10:00 PM - Final Garden Trip and Gear Prep for Tomorrow
Before bed, Finn needs one last garden trip. Quick wee, final sniff, done.
Then I prep for tomorrow. This is crucial – if I don't prep the night before, morning Aoife will forget something important.
I reload the Ascal Bag:
- Fresh poop bags in the CuClip
- Treats refilled
- CuBowl cleaned and packed
- CuPouch emptied and ready
- Water bottle filled
- CuHurl and CuBalls ready to go
Everything has its place. Everything's ready. Tomorrow morning, I just grab the bag and go.
This might sound obsessive, but it's actually the OPPOSITE of obsessive – it's removing decisions. Morning brain doesn't have to think. Everything's ready.
Finn's already in bed (MY bed, despite having his own). He's claimed his spot and there's no moving him.
I get in beside him. He shifts slightly to allow me approximately 30% of my own bed. Generous, really.
What I've Learned About Gear (The Honest Assessment)
Right, so I've mentioned basically the entire CuPooch product range throughout this day. Not because I'm being paid to (though I am, full disclosure), but because I ACTUALLY USE all of it.
Here's my honest assessment of what's worth it and what's essential:
Essential Tier (Can't Live Without)
1. CuHurl (€29) Changed my life. Not exaggerating. Proper fetch = tired dog = peaceful human. Worth every cent.
2. CuBalls (€11 for 2, €45 for 12) Safe, durable, natural leather. Replaced all our tennis balls. Never going back.
3. Ascal Bag (€25, down from €35) Hands-free, multiple pockets, holds everything. Daily essential. Best €25 I've spent on dog gear.
4. CuClip (€10) Poop bags and treats in one clip. Sounds simple. IS simple. That's why it works.
5. Foldable Poop Scooper (€10) Saves your back. Folds flat. No drama. Just get one.
Very Useful Tier (Makes Life Easier)
6. CuPouch - Wet Bag (€10) Two pockets (wet/dirty and clean) keeps your car from becoming disgusting. Very useful if you go to beaches or muddy walks.
7. CuBowl - Foldable Water Bowl (€5-9) Portable, folds flat, essential for long days out. Get the double one if you're fancy.
8. MADRA Charity Bandana (€10) High-vis safety, supports rescue, looks class. Practical AND charitable.
9. Stop-a-Dog (€9-49) Bark deterrent for training. Not essential for all dogs, but brilliant if yours is vocal.
Nice to Have Tier (Not Essential But Good)
10. CuKit - Complete Bundle (€60, down from €99) If you're starting from scratch, this bundle is VALUE. Everything you need in one go.
11. CuHurley Kit (€34, down from €39) CuHurl plus extras. Good if you want the full setup.
12. CuPooch Tote Bag (€10) For carrying stuff. Not as practical as the Ascal Bag for walks, but handy for other things.
13. Dog Charity Calendar (€10) Supports rescues, has cute dogs. Nice gift. Not essential.
The Real Talk: What You ACTUALLY Need
Look, I could tell you to buy everything. But that's shite advice. Here's what you ACTUALLY need based on your situation:
If You're New to Dog Ownership:
Start with:
- CuHurl and CuBalls (proper exercise from day one)
- Ascal Bag or similar (organization saves sanity)
- Poop bags and dispenser (obvious reasons)
- Foldable bowl (hydration matters)
Total: About €55-65. That's your foundation.
If You've Got a High-Energy Dog:
Everything above, PLUS:
- Extra CuBalls (they'll go through them faster)
- CuPouch for wet/dirty gear (you'll need it)
- Stop-a-Dog if they're vocal (training helper)
Total: About €75-85.
If You're an Adventure Person (Beaches, Hikes, etc.):
Everything above, PLUS:
- Double CuBowl (food and water on long trips)
- MADRA bandana (high-vis safety in forests/mountains)
- Backup CuBalls (you WILL lose some in nature)
Total: About €90-100.
If You Just Want One Thing That'll Make the Biggest Difference:
Get the CuHurl.
Seriously. If I could only have ONE piece of dog gear (besides the basics like lead and collar), it'd be the CuHurl. A tired dog is a happy dog. Proper fetch = tired dog. Simple maths.
The Gear I DON'T Use (And Why)
Right, so I've been very positive about CuPooch gear because I genuinely use and like it. But let me tell you what I DON'T use, for balance:
Fancy Designer Gear: I don't care if my dog's collar costs €100. Finn doesn't care either. Functional over fashionable, every time.
Excessive Toys: Finn has about five toys total. He doesn't need forty. The CuBalls are his favorites anyway.
Dog Clothes (Except Practical Ones): I don't dress Finn in costumes. He's not a doll. The MADRA bandana serves a PURPOSE (visibility and charity). That's different from a tutu.
Expensive Bedding: His "bed" is an old duvet in the corner. He prefers my bed anyway. I've stopped fighting it.
Premium Everything: I'm not buying organic, hand-pressed, artisanal dog food. He eats quality food that meets his needs. That's enough.
The point: Spend money on things that make life BETTER or EASIER. Everything else is marketing.
What This Day Actually Cost
Right, let's be honest about money because nobody talks about this:
Saturday's Expenses:
- Farmers market: €25
- Café lunch: €12
- Pub pint: €5.50
- Petrol for driving around: ~€10
- Dog treats from market: €8
Total: About €60
The gear I used today (CuHurl, bags, bowls, etc.) was all one-time purchases that I've had for months/years. The ACTUAL daily cost is fuel, food, and the occasional treat.
Dog ownership is expensive, but it doesn't have to be STUPID expensive. Buy good gear once (CuPooch stuff lasts), maintain it properly, and you're grand.
The Bigger Picture: Why Gear Matters (And Why It Doesn't)
Here's the truth: Finn doesn't care about gear. He doesn't know the CuHurl is Irish-made from recycled plastic. He doesn't appreciate that his bandana supports rescue dogs. He doesn't understand that the CuBalls are safer than tennis balls.
What he DOES care about:
- Time with me
- Exercise and play
- New places and smells
- Social interaction
- Feeling included in my life
The GEAR just makes it easier for ME to provide those things consistently.
The CuHurl means I can exercise him properly without injury.
The Ascal Bag means I'm always prepared and not stressed.
The CuPouch means my car doesn't smell like bog.
The CuBowl means he stays hydrated on long days.
It's all in SERVICE of spending quality time with him. The gear is the tool, not the point.
But good tools make the job easier.
And when the job is easier, you're more likely to DO it. You're more likely to go to the beach at sunrise. You're more likely to do that impromptu forest walk. You're more likely to bring your dog on adventures instead of leaving them home because it's "too much hassle."
That's why gear matters. Not because it's fancy. Because it REMOVES FRICTION.
Your Saturday Challenge
Right, you've read about my Saturday with Finn. Now it's your turn.
This Saturday, do ONE thing that's out of routine with your dog:
- New beach or park you've never visited
- Longer walk than usual
- Bring them somewhere they're allowed but you usually don't (farmers market, outdoor café, GAA match)
- Proper fetch session with actual distance
- Forest hike instead of neighborhood loop
Just ONE thing that's different.
And if you need gear to make it easier? Get the gear. Don't let lack of organization or preparation stop you from giving your dog experiences.
Life's too short for half-arsed dog ownership.
Your dog deserves adventures. You deserve a tired dog. Everybody wins.
The Final Word: It's About the Days, Not the Gear
Look, I've spent this entire blog talking about CuPooch products. And they ARE good – I use them all, they make life easier, I'm genuinely happy to recommend them.
But the REAL story isn't the gear.
The real story is that I woke up at 6:15 AM on a Saturday – my only lie-in day – and went to the beach with my dog.
That I spent my entire Saturday including him in everything: market, forest, GAA match, pub.
That I prioritized his needs (exercise, socialization, mental stimulation) alongside my own plans.
That's what made today brilliant. Not the products. The COMMITMENT.
The gear just made the commitment easier to keep.
So yeah, buy the CuHurl. Get the Ascal Bag. Grab some CuBalls. They'll help.
But more importantly: SHOW UP for your dog.
They're not here long enough to waste time making excuses.
Sláinte to you and your hound! 🐕💚🇮🇪
P.S. - From Finn (Probably)
[If Finn could write, he'd say]:
Right, so the human's after writing a whole blog about our Saturday. Here's what actually mattered to me:
- Beach at sunrise (BEST)
- Dead crab rolling (ALSO BEST, despite bath consequences)
- Farmers market cheese smells (didn't get any, but lived in hope)
- Forest with NEW SMELLS
- GAA match drama (unclear what sport, but INTENSITY)
- Pub with dropped chips (scored two, it was mighty)
- Human being present all day (most important bit)
The gear? Don't care. The yellow balls are grand. The bag holds treats. The big stick throws far.
But what I ACTUALLY care about: the human chose to spend the ENTIRE day with me. That's it. That's everything.
More Saturdays like this, please.
Woof. And sláinte.
