Greg Manteufel’s life changed dramatically after a rare bacterial infection, yet his response offers a measured lesson in resilience. A year after losing his lower legs, hands, and part of his nose to Capnocytophaga canimorsus—a bacteria found in dogs—he’s cautiously optimistic. Having endured dozens of surgeries and adapted to prosthetic legs, the 49-year-old from West Bend, Wisconsin, dreams of reclaiming simple joys like driving and fishing.
His story, while harrowing, prompts reflection rather than alarm. Manteufel’s ordeal began subtly, with flu-like symptoms that spiraled into sepsis, a life-threatening blood infection. Doctors, initially puzzled, resorted to amputations as his limbs and nose blackened from dying tissue. “It was rough,” he recalls, having remained awake through much of it. Yet, he harbors no bitterness. “I don’t blame any dog,” he insists, a stance that feels both generous and grounded.
The bacteria, though common in dogs, rarely harms humans—experts note it typically affects those with weakened immunity, and Manteufel’s case defies easy explanation. He suspects casual contact with dogs, perhaps touching his face, triggered it. Still, he urges awareness, not fear. His recovery has been deliberate, not miraculous. Learning to walk on short prosthetics—“stubbies”—took weeks of grueling therapy to rebuild core strength.
Now, he’s testing jointed prosthetics and a hand device, though he admits it’s uncomfortable. “I don’t wear it every day,” he says, acknowledging the slow adjustment. Independence remains his goal, but he’s realistic: “Right now, I am kind of stuck.” Watching others with limb differences online, he’s piecing together a new normal. What stands out is Manteufel’s tempered positivity. He credits his brother’s advice—“keep a positive attitude”—for sustaining him, yet he’s not naïve.
The generosity of others has encouraged him, but he knows the road ahead is long. Five reconstructive surgeries have preserved part of his nose, with more to come. “After three years, you won’t be able to tell,” he hopes. His story doesn’t demand awe—it invites quiet consideration of how one might face the unthinkable with patience and grace.
