Here's a little more to the story (and don't worry, no dogs were harmed). This took place in early June of 1991. After the fighting was over in Kuwait, my unit had to wait it's turn to fly back to the United States. Because we were one of the last units to arrive (Christmas day, 1990) we wound up sitting in the desert outside the city of Al Jahra. By June, the area was declared safe and Kuwaiti citizens were just starting to return to the area.
With absolutely nothing to do besides wait, we took to getting ourselves back into good physical condition. My buddy Tom and I decided to go for a 3 mile run, and because it was extremely hot and the fighting was over for months, we decided to not bring our rifles with us. When we were about a mile out of our camp, I saw the dog pack. Being a dog lover, I thought "Oh how cute. a bunch of puppies!". The dogs looked at us and thought "Oh how cute. Lunch has arrived".
The dogs ran towards us and it didn't take long to figure out that they were not looking to have their ears scratched or bellies rubbed. They quickly surrounded us and began their attempts to separate us. We stood back to back and started looking for some kind of weapon for protection. When we tried kicking or punching, the dogs snapped at us. Although they were not big, they made up for it with speed. If a dog doesn't want you to touch him, they can easily jump out of the way and take a bite out of your hand.
We were in open desert with absolutely nothing around us. We kicked in the sand for rocks and the best we could come up with were small pebbles. Nothing that could hurt a dog, but they didn't know that. Luckily, the dogs had had a few rocks thrown at them before, so they would back off if you looked as though you might throw one. Actually throwing the pebble was a mistake because they knew we were then defenseless.
So we held our pebbles above our heads and started our way back towards base camp. We had to move slowly or the dogs would lunge at us more boldly. We also had to constantly turn in a circle. If we ignored any angle for too long, the dogs covering that area would move in on us. After about 30 minutes, which felt like hours under the hot sun and the bad situation, a Humvee (American military vehicle) saw us and drove up. The driver got out and fired a few shots into the air. The dogs took off running farther into the desert. The driver got back into his Humvee without so much as saying hello and drove off (a ride back to our base camp would have been the polite thing to offer). Tom and I sprinted the remaining half mile back to base camp where we took our fair share of ribbing for being scared of a bunch of mutts. We never left base camp again without our rifles or in large groups.
The fact that these dogs could survive out there was absolutely amazing. I have no idea how they were staying hydrated, and what they were eating for food was a pretty grim prospect. I remember a few of the dogs looking as though they were apologetic or unsure if they were doing the right thing. Others looked quite savage as though they never knew about the traditional bond between man and dog. We were just prey to them. The alpha dog of the pack had a real intelligence to his eyes. He looked like a smaller version of an Australian Dingo and was maybe 15 kilograms. From time to time some of the dogs would start backing away like they had doubts about the venture, and the alpha would then bark at us even more fiercely, which would rally the other dogs back into the hunt. We focused our threats of thrown pebbles towards him because all of the other dogs would jump back when he jumped back, and when he moved forward, they all joined in.
Looking back on this it seems very interesting. At the time I was genuinely in fear for my life. They may not have been big, but with so many attacking at once, I am quite sure they could have killed us.