I grew up in S. America and my family lived in Montevideo, Uruguay in the '60's. The house we were in, like most in S. America, had maid's quarters at the bottom of the garden (we didn't have a live-in maid). The whole back garden was walled in and painted white. One year we'd travel to Brazil to visit my grandparents and the next they'd come to visit us.
One year they were visiting, my mother found a hummingbird that apparently had been blinded by the sunlight on the wall, had flown into it and had a badly bunged up eye not to mention it was dazed and in shock. My grandfather, Papa, grew up on a farm in Dumfries, Scotland, and was always a critter person no matter what.
So a perch was rigged in the empty maid's room and it was kept dark so that the little bird wouldn't become agitated and injure itself further. As far as I know, Papa fed it sugar water from the tip of his finger and we weren't allowed to handle it. Once his eye had healed and he started showing signs of wanting to fly around more and more, he was eventually released into the garden again.
For a while after that, my mother would tell me that early in the morningswhen she went outside to feed our dog, David, there'd be a little hummingbird resting on the stone courtyard off the veranda almost as if it were waiting for someone. Many of the details are a little foggy now since that was well over 40 years ago but that's as close as "having" a hummingbird as a pet I suppose. Fond memories of a happy time in our lives.