From Chonk to Champion: How I Joined CuHurley & Found My Pack
By Beans McGillicuddy, Reformed Couch Potato & CuHurley Enthusiast
Right. Let's talk about the thing nobody wants to admit: I was fat.
Not "a bit chunky" or "big-boned" or whatever polite nonsense your human tells the vet. I was proper chonk. Round as a barrel. Waddling around like a furry beach ball with legs. My human would give me the sad eyes and mutter about "portion control," but then I'd do the big brown-eye routine and — bingo — extra biscuits.
Here's what nobody tells you about being an overweight dog: it's BORING. You can't run without getting knackered. You can't play without wheezing like a broken accordion. And worst of all? Other dogs at the park start avoiding you because you're always too tired to join in the craic.
I thought that was just my life now. Accept the chonk. Embrace the couch. Live out my days as a decorative cushion that occasionally barks.
Then I discovered CuHurley.
And lads, it changed everything.
The Wake-Up Call (Or: When the Vet Gets Honest)
It started with a routine check-up. My vet — lovely woman, zero tolerance for nonsense — put me on the scales and let out a long sigh.
"Beans," she said, looking at my human, "he's carrying an extra 8 kilos. That's like you carrying around a bag of spuds everywhere you go."
Eight. Kilos.
Turns out all those "premium" treats my human was giving me? Packed with sugar and fillers. Who knew? (Everyone. Everyone knew. I just didn't want to admit it.)
The vet explained that dog obesity is becoming a massive problem — and not just in Ireland. Between the sugar-laden treats, the processed food, and the fact that we're spending more time on sofas than in fields, dogs everywhere are packing on the pounds. And it's not just vanity — we're talking joint problems, heart disease, diabetes, shorter lives.
I'll be honest, that bit scared me.
But here's the thing: my human didn't just tell me to "eat less and move more" (thanks for nothing, classic advice). She found something that made moving fun.
She found CuHurley.
What the Feck is CuHurley? (And Why Should You Care?)
Alright, picture this: hurling, the ancient Irish sport, but for dogs.
You've got a CuHurl — this gorgeous wooden stick with a basket on the end — and your human uses it to launch not one, but two CuBalls at once. Suddenly, fetch isn't just "go get the thing and bring it back." It's a sport. A proper, structured, competitive game with rules, technique, and — this is the best bit — other dogs.
The first time my human took me to a CuHurley meetup in Phoenix Park, I was skeptical. I was still carrying my "winter weight" (year-round winter, apparently), and I figured I'd embarrass myself.
But then I saw them: dogs of every shape, size, and fitness level, legging it across the pitch, tails wagging, tongues out, humans cheering like it was the All-Ireland Final. Border Collies. Labradors. Rescue mutts. Even a three-legged legend named Darcy who could outrun half the pack.
Nobody cared that I was chunky. They just cared that I tried.
The Transformation (Or: How I Became an Athlete, Sort Of)
Here's what happened over the next few months:
Week 1-4: The "Jaysus, This is Hard" Phase
I'm not gonna lie — the first few sessions were brutal. My human would launch those CuBalls with the CuHurl, and I'd sprint maybe 10 meters before needing a lie-down. But here's the magic: because there are TWO balls, there's always another chance. One ball goes left, the other goes right, and before you know it, you're doing interval training without even realizing it.
The CuBalls are class, by the way — high-visibility yellow, so even a half-blind eejit like me can track them, and they bounce predictably, which means less "WHERE DID IT GO?!" and more actual running.
Week 5-8: The "Hold On, I'm Getting Good at This" Phase
I started losing weight. Not dramatically — this isn't some miracle transformation — but steadily. A kilo here, a kilo there. My human cut back on the sugary treats (tragedy) and replaced them with healthier options (less tragic than expected). But the real difference? I was moving. Sprinting, turning, fetching, competing.
And here's the thing about CuHurley: it's not lonely. At the local meetups, I started making friends. Proper mates. Dogs I'd see every week, humans my human would chat with. We'd all play together, cheer each other on, and then collapse in a happy, exhausted heap.
Week 9-12: The "I'm a Feckin' Athlete Now" Phase
Three months in, I'd lost 6 kilos. SIX. I could run without wheezing. I could jump without my joints screaming. I felt like a completely different dog.
My human entered us in a local CuHurley tournament — nothing major, just a friendly regional thing in Cork. And lads, I didn't win. I came third, which is basically a podium finish, and I got a rosette and everything. My human cried. I barked. It was absolutely gas.
Why CuHurley Works (The Science Bit, But Less Boring)
Look, I'm a dog, not a vet, but here's what I've figured out:
1. It's Structured Play, Not Just Random Fetch
CuHurley has rules. There's technique involved. Your human has to learn how to use the CuHurl properly (takes a bit of practice, but they'll get there). You're not just mindlessly chasing — you're strategizing, positioning, competing. It keeps your brain sharp and your body moving.
2. Dual-Ball Action = Double the Exercise
Two balls mean twice the running, twice the engagement, and no downtime waiting for your human to find the ball in the bushes. The CuHurl can launch them over 50 meters, which means serious sprinting. It's cardio, interval training, and agility all rolled into one.
3. It's Social (And Dogs Need That)
Humans aren't the only ones who get lonely. Playing CuHurley with other dogs — whether at meetups, tournaments, or just with your mates in the park — builds community. You've got a pack. You've got accountability. And honestly? It's way more motivating than solo fetch sessions.
4. It's Accessible for Every Dog
Here's what I love: CuHurley isn't just for the lean, mean Border Collie machines. I've seen senior dogs play at their own pace. I've seen three-legged heroes absolutely boss it. I've seen nervous rescue dogs come out of their shells. The game adapts to you.
The CuHurley Community: More Than Just a Game
Since joining CuHurley, I've met dogs from all over — Dublin, Cork, Galway, even a few from abroad. There's a whole movement happening. Humans organizing weekend tournaments. Dog daycares hosting CuHurley leagues. Trainers using it for fitness programs.
And the best part? Everyone's lovely. No one's judging you for being a bit slower or a bit rounder. We're all just here for the craic, the exercise, and the pure joy of chasing something at high speed.
My human joined a local CuHurley club, and now we play twice a week. She's met other dog owners who've become actual friends (not just "polite nod at the park" acquaintances). I've got a whole squad of doggo mates who push me to be better, faster, fitter.
It sounds dramatic, but CuHurley gave me my life back.
Could I Become a National Champion? (Spoiler: Maybe)
Alright, let's not get carried away. I'm not exactly championship material yet. But here's the mad thing: I could be.
CuHurley tournaments are popping up all over Ireland. There are regional competitions, all-breed categories, and even special divisions for rescue dogs and senior pups. The sport is growing fast, and the community is incredibly supportive.
My human reckons if we keep training, we could have a shot at a national-level competition next year. National. Level. Me. The dog who used to get winded walking to the biscuit jar.
Even if I never make it to "champion" status, I've already won. I'm healthier, happier, and part of something bigger than just me and my human tossing a ball around the back garden.
If You're a Chonky Dog (Or You Know One): Here's My Advice
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Talk to your vet. Get the honest truth about your weight. It's not mean — it's caring.
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Cut the sugary treats. I know, I know. But trust me, you'll feel better. And there are loads of healthier options out there that still taste class.
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Find a sport you love. For me, it's CuHurley. For you, it might be agility, flyball, or even just long walks. But make it something you enjoy, not a punishment.
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Join a community. Playing solo is grand, but playing with a pack? That's where the magic happens. Find a local CuHurley group, a dog sports club, anything that gets you out there with other dogs.
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Be patient with yourself. You're not going from couch potato to champion overnight. It takes time. But every sprint, every fetch, every tiny improvement? That's progress.
The Bottom Line (Or: Why CuHurley is Pure Savage)
CuHurley isn't just about losing weight or getting fit (though it absolutely does that). It's about rediscovering what you were born to do: run, chase, play, and be part of a pack.
It's about humans and dogs working together, building bonds, and creating something bigger than just "exercise." It's tradition meeting innovation. It's Irish heritage with a modern twist. It's competitive sport, accessible to all.
And honestly? It's the most fun I've ever had.
So if you're a chonky pup feeling stuck, or a human worried about your dog's health, or just someone looking for a reason to get off the couch and into the fresh air — give CuHurley a try.
Grab a CuHurley Kit from Cupooch, find a local meetup, and just... start. You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to be fast. You just have to show up.
Because here's the truth: every dog deserves to feel like an athlete. Every dog deserves a pack. And every dog deserves to chase something with pure, unbridled joy.
CuHurley gave me all of that.
And who knows? Maybe I'll see you at the nationals next year. I'll be the formerly-chonky Spaniel mix with the big grin and the slightly dodgy left turn.
Come say howiya.
Ready to transform your fetch game?
Get your CuHurley Kit at www.cupooch.com and join the revolution. From couch potato to competitor — it all starts with one throw.
Irish Dog Approved. Fetch-Obsessed Guaranteed.
Beans McGillicuddy is a 4-year-old Spaniel mix from Drogheda who enjoys long sprints, CuHurley tournaments, and the occasional sneaky biscuit. He's lost 7 kilos, gained a championship rosette, and has strong opinions about the importance of community sport for dogs. He's currently training for regionals and is very modest about it (not really).
