A small crew of animal rescuers came to Chimney Rock this week with good intentions. They parked a livestock trailer in the public lot off Main Street, propped its door open, and set a bucket of treats just inside. The plan was simple: find the little black pig the whole gorge has nicknamed Wilbur, coax him into the trailer, and take him to a farm where the winters are warm and the snacks are free.

What they hadn't counted on was Wilbur's calendar.

Sources say that around noon, the pig was already seated at a patio table behind Riverwatch Waterfront Bar and Grill, with the Rocky Broad rushing by and the Rock looming overhead. He was neck-deep in a cheeseburger. Wilbur, for his part, was reportedly relieved to learn that there is no ham in a hamburger. Across from him sat a black Kiko goat, upright, nursing a pint with the unbothered air of a man who holds office without ever having been elected.

That would be Edmund, the unofficial, unelected mayor of Lake Lure. Chimney Rock has a real mayor, Peter O'Leary, so strictly speaking Edmund was a visiting official on someone else's turf. He did not seem worried about the jurisdiction question.

"They told us Wilbur was a runaway," said one member of the rescue crew. "He looked more like a regular."

Edmund was reportedly not about to hand over his new chief of staff without a hearing. According to witnesses, he took a long sip, set down the pint and nodded toward the "Reserved" sign on the table, which had apparently been there all along. The hoofprint on it was said to be his.

Negotiations moved down the street to the porch of Bubba O'Leary's General Store, the shop the mayor himself opened more than 30 years ago. Wilbur, still chewing, took a seat on a rocking chair. Edmund challenged the crew to a game of checkers, with root beers all around, on the unspoken condition that the loser picks up the check. The match went three games. The goat won two.

It was a good-natured standoff, and everyone agreed on the basics. The pig is clearly well fed, the goat is clearly in charge, and the crew's offer, a heated barn, a pen-mate or two and a lifetime supply of snacks, was, in Wilbur's silence, "under advisement."

"Look," said Edmund, "it's a nice offer. But Riverwatch has the best burgers in the area, and a pig has to eat lunch somewhere. I'm not telling him to leave."

As of press time, Wilbur was finishing his fries and glancing down Main Street at the rescue crew's trailer, door still propped open and bucket of treats still waiting inside. Then he looked back at the empty burger basket and wagged his tail. A decision is expected after dessert.

The real story

Loose pigs have been seen around Chimney Rock and Lake Lure since early October. A white pig was rescued and is expected to go to a rescue farm. A black pig, the one locals are calling Wilbur, was seen crossing Memorial Highway toward Lake Lure on Oct. 3. Its most recent reported sighting was Tuesday, Oct. 20, in a Facebook post by Annie Dance, who wrote that the pig was enjoying the evening in Chimney Rock Village. Its whereabouts since then are unconfirmed.

Where the animals came from has not been confirmed, and that includes Edmund's own origin story. Locals are working on setting up shelter and feed for him through the winter months.

Profits from Lake Lure Insider shirts — including the Patio Regulars, Checkers at Bubba O'Leary's, and Lunch by the River designs featuring Edmund and Wilbur — will go to animal rescue agencies in the area.

Spotted Wilbur? Don't approach and don't chase. Call Rutherford County Animal Services, and use the Insider's tip line so we can tell the rest of the story.

Last updated: 2026-10-22